Rituals
by Maaya
Summary: It's the first time the pilots have a battle and shares a safe house together. What can they learn from each other? Complete.
1. Part 1

Disclaimer: Don't own 'Gundam Wing' or any of its characters. It all belongs to Sunrise, Bandai, etc.  
  
Genres/Warnings: Heero POV, PG-13, language, violence, etc.  
  
*cough cough* This is the first time I've tried to write something like a gundam fight so.. don't be *too hard* on me, please? C&C is welcome though. And I know it's pathetic that I haven't written something like this before, since GW is an *action*-show. *Gundam* action show.  
  
This is a sequel to "Friendship", but it can stand pretty much alone anyway. Some references to "Friendship" though. I also hate what I did to Wufei in this soon to be series - he's my fav. character after Duo but I can't seem to avoid bashing him ever so slightly..  
  
*******  
  
Rituals - Part 1 by Maaya  
  
*******  
  
Peering out of the window, I felt a wave of depression come tumbling towards me as if it had wanted to come to me and to me only. At the thought, I snorted, but couldn't shake out of the uncomfortable cold feeling I was completely soaked in. It was still dark outside as the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet and mist surrounded 'Wing where we were placed, hidden in the depths of the forest.  
  
I knew that the other gundams were around me in carefully planned positions but it was impossible for me to spot them as they were all behind me, and I couldn't move 'Wing as it could endanger our cover. This was our first mission together, all five of us, and it was also the one we were ending our stay at the school with.  
  
I can't say that our stay together were very informative in the other pilots' skills, traits or goals, but it was a beginning of what Dr. J was probably planning: to know as much as possible about each other. It was necessary, he told me through a mail, especially in critical situations where you had to act on emotions and gut feelings, not simple knowledge or logic.  
  
Such as captures, hostages and savings.  
  
It's extremely important to know, or at least have an idea about how your team mate is going to react in situations like that.  
  
Letting my eyes flick over to the small digital numbers in the control panel's left side, I read that the clock was 03:42. I had another half an hour left before I should prepare myself for the attack.  
  
Clicking the COM link in function, I spoke out loud to my team mates, almost jumping to the sound of my own voice as it sounded calmer but louder than expected.  
  
"Half an hour left until preparations start."  
  
"Confirmed." It was only Winner who bothered to answer me with a real word, the others settled with grunts or 'aaa's. Well, everyone but Maxwell that will say.  
  
"Yeah, sure, okay, got it.."  
  
He did probably rattle on, finding more words for 'yes' than most people probably could probably ever think of, but I closed the link before I could hear anything else.  
  
I leaned back in my seat, unable to relax, as I thought about what I had learnt about my fellow pilots.  
  
Chang is a loner, and I pity him since he had to share a room with Maxwell. I guess that there was quite a personality crash between the two of them. He is also smart but ignorant, I have a feeling that you have to be a really good friend of his to make him care enough to help you, warn you and so on. He sees the world in two shades and those are black and grey. For him there is justice and bias, in whereas he fights for justice.  
  
Barton and I had shared a room for four weeks but he is still the one I knew the least about. He is a soldier, plain and simple, and I doubt that he has ever been anything else. I'd guess that in a way he is rather like me, emotionally and otherwise. He cares about the mission first and foremost, but can also care about people though it's hard to come through his shell and make him care for one.  
  
Winner is strategic, honest, polite, wealthy and logical, though also considerate and caring. He does also know a great lot about emotions after having that 'space heart'. I'm skeptical about it all, but he *did* actually feel what Maxwell was feeling during that time, so I can only assume and hope that it wasn't a lucky shot..  
  
Maxwell. I'm still wondering about how he managed to get into that situation he was in, it's obvious that he was scared - no, more than scared, when we found him. He was close to terrified. I'm also curious about why he didn't fight back - that teacher was a lot weaker than any OZ soldier and still, he was too scared to fight. It makes me wonder sometimes.  
  
I know that he is a thief, and a break in-expert, and that makes me wonder too. At the first sight of him you'd think that he was a normal teenager whose only worries were acne and girlfriends until he somehow managed to fall into G's hands and became a gundam pilot.  
  
It's absurd, I know, but admit that you'd think that too.  
  
A sudden beeping sound hauled me out of my thoughts and my eyes flew to the digital clock once again. The red numbers were blinking wildly and I reached out to press the button to make the annoying sound stop. When that was done and over with, I moved my hand slightly to the right to push the COM link into working.  
  
"This is 01 - Start preparations; mission start in fifteen minutes. Keep COM links 'on' from now on."  
  
"03 - Yes."  
  
"05 - Understood."  
  
"04 - Confirmed."  
  
There was a pause before Maxwell decided to answer, sounding far more enthusiastic than was normal. Did he always have to make himself stand out?  
  
"02 - Got it!" I could tell from just his voice that he was grinning.  
  
There was a complete silence again, which I used to check everything. Ammo, shields and weapons - everything was clear. I felt how my adrenaline began to run fast in my veins as I looked at the clock once again, the red numbers indicated that it was time to go. Trying to keep from grinning that grin that people said was 'freaky', I gripped the controls; they felt perfect - familiar and well shaped in my hands.  
  
"Go." I said simply, knowing that the smirk on my lips was heard in my voice. I hope it didn't freak them out *too* much.  
  
Suddenly, Sandrock was visible to my right and Heavyarms to my left as we broke out of the forest just in time too catch the first glint of the train caravan freighting mobile suits. Just like we had figured, the rail was guarded by even more suits and I saw how Barton raised his gun to load off some ammo into them. Just as I was about to do the same, Deathscythe was in front of me and swung its scythe in a deadly half circle, taking out two mobile suits at the same time.  
  
"Anyone who sees me goes to HELL!" He screamed out loud, seemingly forgetting about our COM link as he swung the scythe once again. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I needed them to focus on the battle; it was just so.. so Maxwell, to scream like that during battle. I heard a soft snort, though, from.. someone, presumably Barton, before I had the chance to take out *my* first mobile suit.  
  
I blasted it in two and it exploded. It was clean, and the only thing that showed that there was a pilot in the suit was the short scream that had time to escape his lips before the explosion.  
  
It's the screams that get to me the most though.  
  
I destroyed another suit; this one didn't even have time to react before it exploded.  
  
Under the loud battle sounds, a mix of explosions, screams and that special ringing in you ears, I could suddenly hear a voice speaking calm enough to make itself heard through the noise.  
  
"I'm.. sorry."  
  
It took a while before I realized that it was Quatre who had spoken and I turned around quickly, in time to see Sandrock destroy another mobile suit.  
  
"I'm so.. sorry."  
  
Another suit exploded.  
  
"Please forgive me."  
  
Yet another explosion, coloring the faint mist red, orange and yellow, the colors of a sunrise that never seemed to come.  
  
*******  
  
I shivered, forcing myself to ignore everything around me but the doll that I was currently fighting.. destroying. Thankfully, Winner kept quiet from now on, but well, as they say; from the frying pan into the fire. Isn't it something like that?  
  
"I'm going to kill YOUUUU!"  
  
There was another flash from the green scythe before it swung around once again.  
  
"Maxwell, keep quiet!"  
  
Shen Long's arm shot out towards the train as it passed him, successfully destroying one of the rail road cars.  
  
"Shinigami has come to you..!"  
  
Deathscythe flung himself towards the train, cutting off half of the wagons with the scythe. He used another swing to blow them into something near to nothing.  
  
"05 to 02 - shut up!"  
  
I couldn't help it, but I started laughing now. Not at Chang and Maxwell, no, I was laughing because of the adrenaline, because of the fear combined with excitement and it gave me this strange feeling of something I couldn't escape. So I laughed. Simple as that.  
  
"Fuck! Heero, what are you doing?!"  
  
It was Maxwell, and he sounded almost.. panicked? scared? He was speaking English, forgetting himself in the heat of the battle and I snapped out of it, at the sound if his voice and the power of an explosion that rocked me in the cockpit. "Damn!"  
  
"Heero? Are you all right?"  
  
I grunted an affirmative answer and tested 'Wing's controls again, after having lost grip of them. They were working all right, but the left arm felt.. strange somehow. As I didn't have time to reflect about it right now, I went out into the battle again.  
  
*******  
  
Yet another explosion was heard as Shen Long destroyed yet another mobile suit. Thankfully it was empty, fresh out from the destroyed train that was now lying on the side, twisted once in an unnatural way. I could hear the heavy breaths coming from my team mates as they tried to keep from toppling over in pure exhaustion, and knew that I wasn't much better myself.  
  
"This is 01 - Status?"  
  
"03 - Clear."  
  
"05 - Okay."  
  
"02 - Umm, kinda good."  
  
"04 - I'll be okay."  
  
I raised one of my eyebrows. 'I'll be okay' didn't sound quite right - what had happened to Winner? I pushed it away for now - right now we had to disappear before more OZ soldiers came and could track us. We were going to a safe house, hidden in this very forest and were supposed to stay there until our next orders arrived. I said that to the others too, but was interrupted as Trowa spoke up.  
  
"Quatre, how are you really?"  
  
"I told you - I'll be okay."  
  
"Quatre."  
  
There was a pause in which I thought about what they had said. I had noticed that Winner, Barton and Maxwell were calling each other by their first names now, and had done that the latest days.  
  
"Broken, or bruised ribs, that's all."  
  
"Hey guys, as much as I hate to interrupt your conversation, shouldn't we head to the safe house now?" Maxwell's voice broke into their conversation and maybe it was just me, but I thought his voice sounded strained somehow. It was probably just my imagination though.  
  
"You should use code numbers while talking in the COM link." I informed them, sharper than necessary. "We're heading back now. Winner, be careful with those ribs."  
  
"04 - Yes."  
  
"02 - Uhh, Heero?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"02 - Why aren't *you* using the code numbers?"  
  
I really, desperately wanted to kill him as he had said that, and right after that, kill myself. Not knowing what to answer, I ignored him and took the lead towards the safe house.  
  
It didn't take very long for us to arrive to the safe house, and when 'Wing and I was settled, I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes and allowing myself to relax for a moment. I sat like that for a few seconds before reaching out with a tired hand and shutting the COM link off. Another moment later, I reached out and opened the hatch, and forced myself to get out of my gundam.  
  
The first thing I saw was.. well.. trees and four gundams facing mine as we all stood in a circle. I knew that there should be a small cabin somewhere around here, but wasn't really sure where.  
  
Chang and Barton were already outside their gundams, climbing down towards the ground, whilst Winner stood on his open hatch, clutching his stomach area with a resolute but pale expression in his face. Maxwell was making his way towards him.  
  
As I was sure that he would help Winner down, I began climbing myself and it wasn't long before I was standing on real, solid ground. Vaguely, I remembered an old cartoon I'd seen in a shop window, where the character was kissing the ground after being on a flying object for a long time. I snorted softly at the thought and waited until Maxwell and Winner had reached the ground too.  
  
Of course I could have gone without them but I figured that if I should get to know them as well as possible, I might as well start now.  
  
"Hey, Heero! Are you waiting for nice lil' us? Can you help Quatre a bit, do you think?" Maxwell waved to me, and I was surprised to hear that he asked for help. Didn't take him for the type to do that, though I'd be even more surprised if it had been Wufei or Trowa.  
  
Winner protested weakly. "Duo, I'm fine you know, only some broken ribs.."  
  
"Yup, and we're gonna get them wrapped up as soon as possible."  
  
Somehow I couldn't help but feeling slightly amused by their friendly argument. It was like they really knew each other quite well, as if they were brothers or something like that. Maxwell turned towards me, and for the first time, I noticed some dark bags under his eyes and the tiredness in them. He was pale too, and I wondered if he really was as fine as he'd said he was.  
  
"Where is the safe house?"  
  
"Follow Chang and Barton. They should have found it by now."  
  
"Cool." He grinned, but I was unsure about exactly *what* he thought was cool so I ignored the statement. Instead, I put an arm under Winner's.. Quatre's to support him, bringing some weight away from Duo. They both smiled weakly towards me.  
  
We walked on in a slow pace, all three of us was very quiet, even Maxwell - no Duo. I should learn to call them by their first names I guess, as they do with me already.  
  
Even now, as the sun had risen, it was grey outside. Totally grey and cloudy in a depressing way. It was still though, no wind was blowing even the slightest and that made it really quiet and calm. Not a single sound was heard more than the creaking of dry twigs lying on the ground around us. I spotted a lonely, yellow leaf as it fell from a tree, landing only meters away from us.  
  
It wasn't until we could see the safe house that I noticed something.. different in Duo's way of walking. He stepped very quickly on his left leg and took long ones with his right, making him sway up and down in a way that could only be described as he was limping. Quatre didn't seem to notice.  
  
We had reached the cabin now, and for some reason so stood Chang.. Wufei and Trowa outside, waiting for us, there was something sheepish about their expressions. Duo seemed to notice it too, because he looked at them both, questioning.  
  
Wufei was the one who spoke up, and he looked directly at Duo as he did. "Uhh, do you have your skeleton keys here?"  
  
I had been right, there *was* something sheepish with that expression, as well as in his voice too.  
  
"Why?" Duo asked.  
  
"The cabin is locked and we don't have the keys."  
  
My braided team mate was suddenly grinning widely, giving Wufei with a pointing look. "See, I told you we'd need them sometime!"  
  
I didn't even want to know.  
  
He began digging in his braid, but before anyone of us had the chance to ask about it, he took out a small tool. Quatre gasped and Trowa snorted softly before he went to work, it only took him a few seconds to do it. He was grinning even wider as the door swung open and he held out a hand as if to show us that we should enter first. We did, and he followed close after.  
  
"Am I good, or what?"  
  
After a quick ransack, we could see that there was three bedrooms, so four of us would have to share with another. Given from the glares Wufei gave us, I guessed that he wanted to be the one to have the single room and we shrugged, accepting his wish.  
  
He left us four standing, looking at each other, uncertain. As no one of us seemed to want to make a decision, I spoke up on a sudden impulse.  
  
"I can share with Duo."  
  
I found myself suddenly in the center of all attention as everyone seemed to stare at me as if I was an alien. Duo himself looked the most surprised and for some reason it annoyed me that they were this confused by that single decision..  
  
"You really want that?" He asked, sounding both hopeful and skeptical as he studied me, looking at me up and down.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Okayyy." He visibly brightened. "Can we take the room to the left?"  
  
Shrugging, I repeated. "Why not?"  
  
*******  
  
I woke up sometime after midnight, but at first I wasn't sure why, I didn't even know where I was. The only thing I knew was that I was lying in a rather hard bed, and that it was completely dark in the room.  
  
What had happened?  
  
Was I captured?  
  
Had OZ..?  
  
No I told myself, forcing myself to calm my breaths as I relaxed back into my pillow, no. We had left the school and carried out a mission, before going to a safe house in the middle of the woods. The woods. I thought about it for a while - maybe *that* was why I had woken up. It was entirely too quiet here, and dark. The last time I had been in a forest was when I was young, still training together with Odin.  
  
Now with the memories of Odin in my mind, I relaxed again, though I didn't seem to be able to fall asleep. I could hear Duo's faint breaths in the bed beside mine and they could almost.. almost lull me to sleep again..  
  
Breathing in..  
  
Pause  
  
Breathing out..  
  
Pause  
  
In..  
  
Pause.  
  
Out..  
  
In..  
  
Out..  
  
I blinked awake again as his breaths became quicker and quicker, not having realized that I had breathed in the same rate as he had. I frowned at the much too fast pace he had now, and it only seemed too go faster and faster until..  
  
After a specially heated inhale of air, the breaths stopped completely and I could almost imagine how his eyes had opened and was now staring up in the blackness surrounding him as well as it did with me. It had been a nightmare.  
  
I lay there, listening as he seemed to calm down, before getting up, tumbling over his own bed, manage to make it out of the door, and close it behind him.  
  
Then there was quiet again.  
  
*******  
  
TBC  
  
*******  
  
Ooookayyyy, this didn't turn out all that well.. *sigh* Anyone still interested in this? There's going to at least one other part if I don't decide that there'll be a long plot starting from here. If I do, then there'll be many more chapters.. but I'm not sure if I'm up to starting another series right now - three is more than enough.  
  
How did my action scene turn out? *embarrassed* 


	2. Part 2

Standard disclaimer: I don't own gundam wing or any of its characters.  
  
About OOC: Some people have said that Heero is OOC in this story and.. they are right, though I'm writing it and I'm afraid that he is going to remain that way because otherwise it won't fit for the story. I apologize, so if you really, really dislike OOCs, then please don't read. ^_^ Beside, I'm trying to keep from writing too stereotypical. *grin* Oh, and I've always believed that Heero has a rather dry sense of humor. Maybe it'll be visible in here.  
  
About this chapter: I'm not sure what to make of this, more than it is very strange.  
  
I'm so sorry if you're disappointed because of this part. ;_; I'm not happy with it.  
  
And yes, more about the pilots' pasts are going to come up later. Just be patient, 'kay?  
  
*******  
  
Rituals - Part 2 by Maaya  
  
*******  
  
I lay there, listening as he seemed to calm down before getting up, tumbling over his own bed, managing to make it out of the door, and close it behind him.  
  
Then there was quiet again.  
  
I finally let myself relax, but how it now was, I never drifted off to sleep. It was strange, because I did certainly need the rest after that early mission. Instead I got obsessed with waiting for Duo's return.  
  
It was so quiet and dark in here that the air felt heavy and thick - too thick to breathe. It disgusted me how I thought like that, and it disgusted me that I waited for Duo's return. I don't really care, do I? My frustrating mind refused to answer that question.  
  
Why did I wait for him? What was it about him that made me incapable of falling asleep in the middle of the night? Once again, my thought went back to that incident at the school. He had been quiet afterwards, and he had asked me to stay with him in a very, very small voice.  
  
He had asked me to stay. Somehow, that felt strange. People don't want me to stay with them, and I don't want to stay with people - it's like an unspoken arrangement between me and the society. Even the other pilots seem uncomfortable around me, at least Quatre do.  
  
Somewhere, deep inside, it felt. . . nice to be wanted by someone. And it felt nice to want to be with someone too. It felt nice to help someone and know that you were comforting in some way.  
  
Comforting is a word I never thought I would use about myself.  
  
Dr. J once said that I was like a dog, or rather a wolf, when I acted like that. Waiting for the return of the rest of the pack.  
  
But I can't agree with him. I've never had a pack and have certainly not needed it before. I want to be alone. I just.. needed to know where things were.  
  
However, my body refused to let me fall into the dark rest that sleep would give me. I lay in my bed for a while, staring up into the space of nothing, but no sound of careful footfalls ever reached me.  
  
Maybe I should add that I couldn't hear any loud, unmindful stamps either.  
  
It took a while until it began to bother me, fifteen minutes to be exact. Annoyed, I let five more minutes pass. When they were past, I sat up in the bed and decided to go and see where he was.  
  
The carpet was too soft for me to feel with my soles of feet, I only felt the pressure of my own body weight on the floor. I have never thought about that fact before.  
  
The soles of my feet are hardened from training - running and walking mostly. A hard layer of thick skin has been produced from it, probably not very unlike the kind that the Stone-Age people had a long time ago.  
  
I avoided bumping into my bed, like Duo had with his own, and made it outside our room without causing any noise. The silence was still the reigning force, like a king over a country.  
  
The house's construction was already memorized, but it wasn't needed as the lights in the bathroom were switched on, shining out in the hallway through the only slightly open door.  
  
Carefully, I walked up to the door and peeked inside.  
  
There, just inside the bathroom door he sat on the floor with his back turned towards me. His hair was untidy, with wisp of chestnut falling out from the now very loose braid which was missing its lace that was usually holding it together. For some reason I suspected that he didn't normally sleep with his hair braided and wondered if he had tonight just because he would be sharing room with me. Did he keep it in a braid when he shared room with Chang - Wufei too?  
  
He was wearing a white tank top, but I could see how the muscles were touting under it as he worked with something I couldn't see, something that required a lot of strength since his arms were tense enough to make his bare shoulders tremble ever so slightly.  
  
Suddenly, he seemed to realize that someone was standing behind him, because he stilled completely for a second before snapping his head around to see who intruded his privacy. I noticed how his hand went upwards in a defensive gesture.  
  
For some reason, that motion made me pleased. It showed that he was trained correctly, that he had the instincts of a soldier he needed to survive. When I saw him the first time, I couldn't really believe that he was a gundam pilot. He seemed much too usual - like a normal teenager, not at all like a gundam pilot. The only thing that made me believe that he really was what he claimed to be was that special glint of death and darkness in his eyes, - a glint of sarcasm and cynicism that showed how old he really was inside. Ancient, like all of us pilots.  
  
Now I was met by those eyes, and the glint was stronger than I had ever seen before.  
  
We stared at each other for a moment filled with surprise and wariness, until he broke the contact and turned around again. "Do you always observe other people in the bathroom?" His voice was a strange mix of sarcasm and stillness that fit well into the situation.  
  
I knew that he wasn't expecting an answer so why bother to give him one?  
  
When he had turned around, his own body had unconsciously scooted around and it gave me a clear view of what he was doing.  
  
He was wrapping his knee.  
  
It was almost in finishing stages, only a few inches were left of the white bandage he was using and the knee looked positively thicker, like if it was swollen and wrapped up in many layers at the same time. I could see that he was wrapping too hard though, but that wasn't my business.  
  
"Well?" He startled me out my thoughts by saying. "Are you going to help me or not?"  
  
I could either ignore him and walk away, or help him so we'd both get back to our room as soon as possible.  
  
I decided to help him.  
  
Sitting down beside him, I quietly grabbed what was left of the bandage and wrapped it around his knee before fastening it, looser than he had done with the rest, and it allowed the whole band to get looser and therefore simplify the blood circulation in his leg.  
  
When I looked up again, I met his startled face and realized that he hadn't expected me to actually help him. His bangs and hairline was wet, so he had probably washed his face sometime earlier. Droplets fell from the hair and onto his cheeks.  
  
"Don't do it too hard." I told him and stood up again. "It'll only worsen it."  
  
"Oh. " He actually looked embarrassed, and his arm came up to scratch the back of his head in what seemed to be a nervous gesture. Suddenly, he stilled with a comical expression in his face. He moved his hand carefully over his hair and I was suddenly hit by the realization - he hadn't known what state his hair was in. The hand fell to the floor behind him as he tried to find the ending of the braid but couldn't. His hand returned with a handful of loose strands instead. "Damn."  
  
"It must have come loose tonight." I heard myself saying and it was only then I understood what some people meant when they said that they wanted to hit themselves.  
  
"Yeah." Duo paused. "Guess so." Then he looked at me, incredulous. "You were awake?"  
  
I didn't answer but my silence seemed to confirm his fears anyway.  
  
"Oh, sorry. . . I didn't mean to wake you up. Wufei never did so I hoped you wouldn't either. . ."  
  
"I was already awake." I broke him off in mid-sentence. "You didn't wake me."  
  
"Oh." He said again. "Oh."  
  
I decided that it was time for me to go, and I turned around to do so, but didn't get far because he spoke up again.  
  
"Hey."  
  
I stopped and turned my head around enough to make me see him out of the corner of my eye.  
  
"Can you.." His voice trailed off and I saw dimly how he took a deep breath before finishing the sentence. "..help me up?"  
  
My eyes widened and I turned around fully. He was slightly flushed in his face and refused to look at me as he babbled on and on without pausing, even to breath it seemed.  
  
". . . cannot move the knee like usual right now s'I gonna have an 'ard time gettin' up. . ."  
  
He was suddenly using English again, but it was spoken in such a fast, drawling accent that I couldn't sort out the words properly. Idly, I wondered where he had gotten it from and in which L2-colony's you used it.  
  
I walked up to where he was sitting on the floor, grabbed his arm and hauled him up from the concrete. He made the strangest 'eeping' sound in surprise and I could tell that he wasn't prepared for me to help at all from the way he almost fell flat on his stomach. I let go of his arm and turned around to walk straight back to our shared room again.  
  
Duo stayed though, and I could feel his stare that made the hairs on my neck raise as it hit my back.  
  
Back in bed again, I thought about his behaviour this night. He had been the usual joker, but with something vulnerable under - something unusual to see in his eyes. I had only seen that.. emotion once, and it was that day in school with the teacher. 'Maybe', I said to myself and rolled over to lay flat on my back, 'maybe we are all hiding something from ourselves.'  
  
*******  
  
I dreamt a very strange dream that night. I can't remember why or what it was really about but I know for certain that it was something involving all the pilots. I can remember choking on something salty that I can guess was tears, but I was covered in it. It was like I was drowning in that salt liquid together with the others.  
  
Then I saw a braid floating past and I grabbed it as hard as I could in an attempt to save my life. Then I saw a sword that I also grabbed - and a heart in stone and a lion.  
  
That's all I can remember. I'm not sure if I grabbed the heart and the lion.  
  
I didn't remember the dream when I woke up - in fact, I believed that I never dreamt at that time. But now, afterwards, some images came to mind - like from past lives I've had.  
  
One thing that surprises me is how strange it was that I held on. I had wanted to die during that time - it was the mission that kept me alive. So why did I hold on to those symbols?  
  
Was it an unconscious scream for friendship and closeness? That's what Duo thought when I told him about it once.  
  
*******  
  
I did soon realize that there was much to learn about each other. Everyone had their own habits, tastes, thoughts, and beliefs.  
  
Breakfast for example.  
  
I wake up seven o'clock every morning, brush my teeth and eat breakfast. But it seems like that was the simple version of doing it all. Duo was still asleep when I woke and he had curled into the smallest lump possible under the quilts. The only thing I could see of him that confirmed he really was Duo Maxwell, was the strands of hair the peeked out in angles all around him. I made it look like he was totally covered in chestnut hair under those sheets.  
  
Thinking about how badly it must be for his knee to lie like that, I dressed and went downstairs, only to be met by the sight of both Wufei and Trowa already sitting by the table. The fact that they had been earlier than me bothered me for some reason, but I ignored that part of my mind and went towards a cupboard and took out a glass. None of them offered any good morning, and I didn't bother either, just turned silently towards the sink and filled the glass with water.  
  
Since we hadn't had time to buy any supplies, the fridge was most probably empty and the fact that Trowa and Wufei wasn't and hadn't eaten anything (I assumed that they hadn't since I couldn't see any dishes) confirmed my thought.  
  
I like to think that it didn't bother me to miss a meal, but it seemed like it did because I felt a strange tug in my stomach, as if it longed for something I hadn't given it today. I desperately wanted to go up to my room but another voice in my head asked why I couldn't stay now when Wufei and Trowa stayed. Maybe it was a strange kind of stubbornness I have never had before?  
  
The result was that I slid down to sit on a chair, the one furthest away from Wufei and Trowa, and settled with thinking about.. various things.  
  
A moment of quiet came, but the door to the kitchen was suddenly open, and then closed again with a loud slam after letting the disturber inside. Not too surprisingly, it was Duo.  
  
Just inside the door, he stopped and stared at us with a strange expression visible in his face. I looked back and guessed that the others did the same.  
  
Duo's hand came up and he waved cheerfully to us, though with the same unreadable expression. "Hi guys." He said and went towards the fridge. "Are you aware of that you are all sitting furthest away from each other as it is possible?"  
  
I looked around at us three at the table and hated to admit that he was right, though some part of my brain had made it intentional. I guessed that the other guys thought the same.  
  
Only Wufei seemed to bother with an answer. I think it was because he was the most comfortable around our loud Deathscythe pilot since they had shared a room in school. "Yes."  
  
It wasn't much of an answer, I realized, but Duo seemed to settle with that, at least for the moment. He opened the fridge and then stopped as if he had been shot. It took a while, but then he turned to us.  
  
"Well." He drawled. "Was it really that hard to open your mouths and tell me that there wasn't anything to eat?"  
  
"No." I offered coldly.  
  
"You'd find out anyway." Wufei added. He was keeping his cool, but I could at the same time recognize a faint tone of. . . amusement? in his voice.  
  
Duo rolled his eyes and slid down on the chair next to mine, muttering something I didn't care to listen to.  
  
Why did he sit down in the chair next to mine? Why not Wufei's or Trowa's? He sat close enough so I could feel his warmth radiate from his body in steady waves, and I realized how cold it really was in the safe-house.  
  
Cold doesn't bother me like it would with a normal t-shirt. But then again, I'm not a normal person. My body's comfort is in second hand - the comfort of my mind is much more important. And having this vibrant boy beside me didn't give any kind of mental comfort. I could almost feel his energy hit me together with the warmth.  
  
He's so confusing. This night, he was quiet, uncertain and seemed almost afraid. He had still joked, but with much more subtlety than usual. I liked that part of him because it was how I felt about myself when I was younger. Now, this morning, he was cool and joking. Cheerful. That part made *me* uncertain.  
  
"What are you reading, Wufei?"  
  
Duo's cheerfully asked question startled me out of my thoughts and I looked up. Maybe a little surprised, I could note that yes, Wufei had a large book lying on the table in front of him. Where did that come from? Had he been reading that when I entered? I couldn't remember.  
  
The Chinese man's eyes remained on the page he was reading for a little longer before he looked up, annoyed. "What did you say?"  
  
"What." The braided boy paused and gesticulated towards the thick volume, probably to add more effect to his words. "Are you reading?"  
  
Wufei looked down in his book again as if he thought the question was too stupid to bother with an answer. He stroked a hand over his face for some reason I couldn't pin-point. Just as I thought Duo would ask again, he looked up.  
  
"The Complete Works of William Shakespeare."  
  
One chestnut eyebrow rose, questioning. "In Chinese?"  
  
"English."  
  
The brow was lowered again, maybe a little too much to be its normal state. "Then why in the name of God aren't we speaking English if we're all so darn good at it? It is an international language, you know."  
  
There was a faint tone of frustration in his voice, very unlike the usual cheerful way he speaks in. Leaning forwards to rest his elbows against the table, I couldn't help but notice a large bruise, almost hidden under the thick braid that covered his neck. Where had he gotten that? Had it been there this night?  
  
". . .and." He added suddenly. "I hate Japanese."  
  
I looked at him in a way that some people might call staring. But it wasn't - because I don't stare.  
  
Duo's Japanese isn't bad. In fact, it's better than both Quatre's and Trowa's, and he manages to avoid sounding like a gaijin most of the time. I think that the stay at the school helped quite a lot because the accent was much worse when we first met. But I didn't tell him that.  
  
Once again, my thoughts were interrupted, this time by Quatre as the blonde entered the kitchen - still looking positively bed-ragged. He rubbed his red and puffy eyes and yawned widely at the same time. He was wearing a light blue flannel-shirt and trousers in the same material.  
  
The first thought that went through my head was 'this has to be a joke' and the second was 'a gundam pilot can't look like that'.  
  
By the look on their faces, I believe that's what the others around the table thought too.  
  
Duo was the first one to recover. He jumped up. "Mornin' Q!"  
  
"Good Morning, Duo." Quatre went over to the fridge, just like Duo had done some moments ago. He was stopped by the braided youth though.  
  
"Don't bother - it's empty."  
  
"Empty?" Quatre echoed, looking surprised and clueless at the same time.  
  
"Yeah, empty like, there's no food."  
  
"Oh." Pause. Then, "Is there a store somewhere around here?"  
  
"Don't know."  
  
"About a mile from here." I offered and they stared at me as if they hadn't spotted me until now. "There's a town a mile from here."  
  
An uncomfortable silence filled the room as we all looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Eventually, Duo broke it with a grin.  
  
"I'm going to pick some things up from Deathscythe! You coming, Heero?"  
  
"No." I said, wanting to avoid his company when he acted like the joker. If he had acted like he did tonight however, then I maybe would have followed.  
  
But that's another story.  
  
He looked disappointed for a moment but recovered quickly and grinned again, "Your loss." Then he walked, no - limped, out of the door.  
  
It wasn't until he was gone that I realized that I had to check some things on Wing.  
  
Damnit.  
  
*******  
  
TBC  
  
*******  
  
Sorry, sorry, sorry for the bad chapter! I hated it, but don't have time to rewrite it, so please be nice? 


	3. Part 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any if its characters. This is just a mere fan fiction. I don't earn any kind of many from writing this.  
  
*******  
  
Rituals - Part 3 by Maaya  
  
*******  
  
I waited for nearly three hours for Duo to come back so I could go to the gundams and check Wing's arm unaccompanied. When those one hundred and eighty minutes had passed with no sign of the braided pilot, I decided that I couldn't afford to wait any longer.  
  
What could I do at the safe house anyway? There was nothing to do, and nothing to work with. I couldn't even work on my lap top as it was still in Wing's cockpit.  
  
Just as I was on my way to open the front door, I realized that maybe I should tell someone were I was going. After a moment of searching through the house, I found Wufei calmly sitting in the sofa, still deeply engrossed in whatever play by Shakespeare he had now reached. He looked up when I entered the room, questioning.  
  
"I'm going to 'Wing." I answered his unspoken question and he just nodded before looking down in his book again  
  
It was quite cold outside (not really surprising as the temperature inside was a reflection of the one on the inside) and rather windy. It was that kind that blew through fabric, as well as my own skin.  
  
Is it possible to become permanently blue from cold? It sure felt that way right then as I walked past tall trees waving threateningly in the strong wind. Still, it was these threes that made it possible for us to hide our gundams here. They were high enough to prevent anything to be seen from above if we landed in lying positions. The trees also prevented me from seeing large bits of the sky, something I was quite thankful of.  
  
Even after being on earth for about a month, that great canopy of heaven was still making me uncomfortable. The knowledge of how unprotected it was up above made me feel almost. . . uncertain. Is that the word? On the edge?  
  
I wonder if the others feel the same.  
  
Finally reaching the gundams, I could note that Duo wasn't there. So either, he was in Deathscythe's cockpit, or I had been waiting unnecessarily. Don't know what I would prefer.  
  
I went to work on 'Wing, sadly finding out that there wasn't much I could do about that arm. Not having the tools needed, no material made it possible for me to do anything of use. Something in the network seemed to be off.  
  
Great.  
  
Don't you just hate flaming hot metal shreds in the network?  
  
After having come to that realization, I settled in the cockpit, leaning backwards in the pilots' chair. My muscles seemed to relax by themselves and I reached out with a strangely idle hand to check the connections and statistic. To my utter surprise, I could note that Deathscythe was connected and the COM link was on, so I switched channels until I reached that special one.  
  
I'm not sure how to describe my reaction to the sight that met me. Maybe surprise along with shock, or pity together with awe. Maybe even everything mixed together to an unnamed emotion I can't even begin to describe.  
  
Emotions? Of course I have them. Who in the whole, wide world doesn't? My teachings from Odin told me to act on my emotions, but the newer, much longer and advanced lessons had told me not to let emotions affect judgement and doings.  
  
I saw Duo Maxwell, joker as well as Shinigami, sit in the cockpit, leaned back and hugging his knees tightly to his chest like a scared little child - deep asleep. He breathing was even. But it wasn't the fact he was sleeping that surprised me, it was the expression in his calm face, off- guard-ish and very, very . . . young.  
  
Usually, he had that cool, smirking expression but the current one he wore was different enough to make me wonder; who is Duo Maxwell?  
  
My brain supplied me with an immediate answer; gundam pilot 02 of Deathscythe. Stealth, infiltration and demolition expert. Long hair, black clothes. Joker of the 'gang'. Suddenly, I felt myself in a zero-point in which I wasn't sure what to think anymore. I was on unfamiliar ground, trying to analyze something entirely different from simple facts.  
  
I'm no expert in psychology or even human in general and I'm definitely no good at reading them. And now it seems like I've been partnered with one of the very complex kind. He huddled, hugging his knees harder.  
  
And then he opened his eyes.  
  
I was close to jump in surprise as we stared into each others eyes. I wondered what the hell he was thinking right now.  
  
There was something odd in that moment, something awkward as we stared at each other without moving. I knew that I could easily close the connection but for some reason, I hesitated with my hand hovering over the button.  
  
He let a hand run through his chestnut bangs and yawned. "Heero? What are you doing?" Then he grinned and continued, cheekily. "Checking me out?"  
  
"I am controlling the connections with the gundams." I replied and resisted the urge to push the button and let his face disappear from the screen.  
  
He looked vaguely embarrassed. "Oh - I see." Pause. "Why are you here?"  
  
I answered sternly. "Checking up on 'Wing."  
  
"But I thought. . . " He trailed off and I wondered what he had been on his way to say. He didn't continue though, so I let the subject descend to the ground slowly. "Well, how's it going then?"  
  
"Fine." I grunted out in a way that sounded annoyed enough to tell him exactly how 'fine' it was really going. His facial expression told me he didn't believe my words for a second but he didn't press the subject, just said 'kay' and looked down on something in his control panel. I watched how he worked for several second before finally reaching out and shutting our connection off.  
  
Then I went ahead and did what I guess Duo was also doing - checking the statistics. It was rather good considering, I guess as good as possible.  
  
I felt surprisingly light-hearted from the fact that I had still most of my ammo left when I climbed out of the cockpit and down Wing's body. Duo came up behind me and followed as I walked towards the safe house.  
  
He grinned where he was walking on my side, talking animatedly with wide gestures. He was on what I would later call 'the rush'. It was that kind of energy he got after having slept for more than three hours, a short moment of childish energy that filled him from head to toe. "I wonder if someone has bought some suppl. . . huh?"  
  
I looked up to study his face in surprise as he suddenly stopped. Following his gaze, I was finally met by the sight of his outstretched, open palm. He had this. . . strange expression of something akin to wonder and surprise in his widened eyes. Then they flew up to stare at the small bits of sky visible between branches of trees.  
  
My eyes followed his and we stared together for a moment of silence up at a depressing, cloudy sky. The base was a very dark shade of grey I had never seen before and underneath it was feathery, light grayish clouds swirling around quickly enough for me to see how they changed shapes. It was a fascinating king of sight, unlike everything I had ever seen before. The clouds on the colony were always the same shade of white. White, always white.  
  
And then I felt it too.  
  
Something mildly cold, just a small droplet of clear liquid, fell to rest on my left cheek. I let a hand rise and touch the water hesitantly with my fingers, before letting it fall to my side again. The finger was covered in transparent water and I stared at it for a moment without time, during which I could see Duo in the corner of my eyes, standing completely still by my side.  
  
Rain.  
  
I had never seen real rain before. Snow, sure, but never, ever rain. Colony L1 had regular periods, once a week and I wasn't allowed to go outside then. We kept hidden in the small place we had in a basement, or stayed at the ship Dr. J had. Those short times I spent at the rich colonies, I was never fortunate enough to see it.  
  
I let my fingers wander to my mouth and I tested the liquid, as if to assure myself of that it really was clean, fresh water. For some reason, I was surprised to note that it was.  
  
Duo was still staring up at the sky, childish wonder mixed with surprise visible in his wide eyes.  
  
He is from L2, isn't he? Pilot 02 from L2, in Lagrange point to America. No wonder rain was a surprise to him.  
  
Then another droplet fell, and another. And another one, and even more.  
  
Before either of us had the chance to react and much less say anything, we found ourselves standing in the middle of a thick drizzle.  
  
I had to remind myself to breathe - inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. . . slowly. . .  
  
Then Duo said. "It's raining." He snickered from badly hidden excitement, sounding almost nervous. "Talk about stating the obvious, huh?"  
  
"Yes." My hair was getting heavy from wetness and big drops fell from by bangs upon my nose. I didn't care about wiping them away.  
  
A strange, *sweet* smell hung in the air together with the water, completely unfamiliar to my nostrils. Was this the smell of rain?  
  
Duo turned to me again. "Looks like we're gonna get rather wet, eh?" He was grinning.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Then he grabbed my arm (I stiffened at the surprising contact but forced myself to relax) and drug me out through the woods in a refreshing wonder for natural miracles. And I let myself be led.  
  
*******  
  
I, even after long training with Dr. J, was breathing heavily by the time we reached the safe house together, wet and Duo still gripping my arm tightly with a hand. For some reason, the contact made me smile a little, but I hid it under heavy bangs.  
  
He had kept a quite fast pace for having an injured knee and I found myself being impressed.  
  
"I've never seen rain before." He exclaimed and showed his own dripping wet bangs out of his eyes with a happy grin. "It was fun!"  
  
"Yes." I agreed and he stopped for a second, looking at me strangely, before grinning again, wider than before.  
  
"You neither? I thought I was like, the only person on earth who hadn't seen it."  
  
"Rain came regularly on L1. I was never there when it happened."  
  
"Oh." He sobered and grabbed his braid that was resting innocently on his shoulder and wringed the water out from it. The drops fell into a puddle of water. I didn't hear as they hit the surface because of the rain's sprinkle. "What about snow then? I've heard it's quite usual on L1. Was that controlled as well?  
  
Dr. J had explained it for me when I had asked him the exactly same question as younger and I'm almost sure I repeated his words. "Winter made the generators freeze and the precipitation system became irregular."  
  
Duo's face approved of the explanation, but was mildly thoughtful. Did my face ever look like that? Did I bite my lip and wrinkled my forehead in concentration?  
  
A question that had been lurking in my mind for a while was suddenly past my lips. "Why did you sleep in your gundam?"  
  
"Deathscythe." He corrected me without thinking. "It's better that way. Why did you watch me while I was sleeping?" An impish grin tugged his lips upwards at the final question he said.  
  
I opened my mouth to tell him I hadn't done such I thing when I realized that I actually *had* and closed it again. "Hn."  
  
He grinned at me as he reached out with a hand to open the door. "Whatever."  
  
*******  
  
TBC  
  
******* 


	4. Part 4

Disclaimer: Don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters. I'm just borrowing them for my own, twisted ideas. Sorry all who disapprove. *sheepish smile*  
  
Warnings/Genres: 1+2, shounen ai, Heero POV, angst, general, sap (?), action . . . and so on, I'm afraid.  
  
Notes: I'm sorry about how short this part is but I just couldn't find any way to make it longer. Please deal with me. Please?  
  
*******  
  
Rituals - Part 4 by Maaya  
  
*******  
  
I put my hand carefully on the rain-soaked door handle and pushed the door open. The hinges creaked uncomfortably and I saw Duo wince at the unpleasant sound.  
  
Now you might expect me to say that a nice wave of warmth greeted us as we stepped into the lightened house.  
  
Nothing could be further away from the truth.  
  
The lights were off in the hallway together with whatever not so impressing heating system the safe house had. It was only a couple of degrees warmer than outside in the rain now. I think I allowed myself to sigh softly. It felt like stepping into a deserted cabin in the middle of the woods. Of course, it wasn't very far away from the truth.  
  
"Uhh, where is everyone?" Duo asked by my side just as a door opened and Wufei stepped out from the kitchen, that thick book tucked tightly under one arm. He stopped when he saw us and Duo grinned. "Hi, Wufei. Tired of Shakespeare yet?"  
  
The Chinese pilots looked at us strangely, ignoring the question. "What have you two been doing?"  
  
"It's raining outside." Came the enthusiastic reply. "We walked home. Got wet." I could see something strange in his eyes that resembled a kid on Christmas morning. Childish happiness mixed together with wonder. His defenses were currently very low. I'm almost sure Wufei saw it too because something strange passed over his face as well.  
  
"Well, I'm going to dry off now . . . so long!"  
  
And then he was gone, having left only a memory of wild dances in the rain for me to take and keep. Wufei and I stood side by side, looking at the stairs up which he had disappeared.  
  
"He's from L2." I said after a while as an answer to the unspoken question lingering in his eyes. "He has never seen rain before." I kept the fact that I hadn't seen it either away from the subject. Suddenly, my body as well as heart felt heavy in something maybe akin to sadness. How many children had never seen rain before? Rain that was supposed to be an everyday thing for people here on earth. Was it that Duo was fighting for? For the everyday things some people couldn't afford to enjoy?  
  
Wufei put the glasses he had been holding into a pocket and I decided to take another step by telling him this. "I don't think he is an idiot."  
  
It got very, very quiet for a while and he stilled, hand hovering unmoving over his pants pocket. The water in my bangs collected into one big drop that lingered in the tip before falling heavily onto my nose tip.  
  
"He has." Wufei said at length. "He has to prove it for me first."  
  
I thought about that. "Do I have to prove myself too?"  
  
"You already have." Was the only, cryptic reply I got and then he was gone too.  
  
I think that Chang Wufei is a man who thinks that people are important, no matter how much he seems to hate them. His only problem is that he need friends that fit his thoughts of worthiness, as well as he has to find people he is worthy. I guess it's a strange, individual circle he has shaped for himself and that people have a hard time understanding.  
  
*******  
  
It wasn't until later when we had dried off that I realized we hadn't brought an extra set of clothes and I had forgotten to fetch my laptop from 'Wing.  
  
So there I was, sitting in my wet clothes on a chair in mine and Duo's shared room, tapping my fingers against the table as if I was typing on a keyboard. Duo because my not-so-quiet observer, where he was lying under the covers in his bed. He had taken his wet clothes off and decided to stay in the bed until they had dried off enough for him to wear. It was understandable logic, since his clothes were both heavier and thicker and had probably absorbed more water than my spandex and tank top had.  
  
"Heero, I can assure you that the table won't turn into a laptop not matter how hard you try to convince it to do so."  
  
I snorted and continued to tap.  
  
"I'm sure of it."  
  
I snorted and continued to tap.  
  
"Do you think Wufei brought his sword . . . ?"  
  
I snorted and . . . continued to tap.  
  
"Heero, I'm getting a hard on."  
  
I stopped and raised my head to look at him. He was grinning like a mad man, with something strange in his eyes.  
  
"Got ya."  
  
I snorted and continued to tap.  
  
After a while, he seemed to get tired of talking without receiving an answer so he stopped. And along with his voice, my tapping also ceased into nothingness and we found ourselves in complete silence.  
  
Have you ever been in a room quiet enough to make your ears ring in wish for sound to rest them with? I compare the feeling with being in a totally dark place. It hurts your eyes, doesn't it? We have our senses because we use them and when we suddenly don't need one, something feels 'off'.  
  
But I'm not used to describe emotions, so ignore me.  
  
So when Duo began to hum (or sing, since I wasn't close enough to hear a difference) quietly in his surprisingly subdued voice, it was an almost welcome rest for poor body parts, welcome enough not to make me ask him to shut up. Instead, I found myself listening to a melody I couldn't name but still recognized somehow.  
  
It was a calm and slow-paced piece, in a soothing but still sad way. Then, the tune became faster and rhythmic; I didn't recognize it as I had heard many songs akin to that one before. It was one of those fluff-filled happy songs about love and happiness. Slowly, the tune turned into a whistle, louder and louder until . . .  
  
"Aren't ya going to tell me to shut up soon?"  
  
I looked up and found Duo staring at me, strangely incredulous expression stuck in his face. A small frown marred his forehead, barely visible under the long, chestnut bangs. It took me a moment to realize he wasn't joking. "Do you want me to?"  
  
It made him even more confused. "Yes, well . . . no, I wanted. . . " He broke off and shrugged with an 'oh-so-uncertain' look in his eyes.  
  
I looked at him for a minute before speaking slowly, as I wanted to see his reaction and if I was betrayed and was right in my assumption. "You wanted me to speak . . . so that you could start a conversation?"  
  
His frown turned into a sheepish smile. "But admit that this worked as well." One hand went up to brush across his cheek slowly, almost thoughtfully in all its quiet glory. He said, slow as nothing else. "This sucks." And then. "No kiddin'."  
  
He said it naturally, as if it had been two persons, not one and I wondered if he did that often. It was kind of sad, really, that he answered his own questions and statements instead of waiting for a reply from me.  
  
"Hey, Heero?" My blank stare out in empty air reversed somehow until it focused on his face. "How long do you think it'll take until the clothes have dried?"  
  
I wriggled my shoulders around a bit and shifted position slightly to feel the wet fabric against my skin. "Approximately four hours. from now."  
  
"Oh." His grin faltered together with the sigh he let out slowly. "So, who are you?"  
  
"Heero Yuy, gundam pilot 01 of Wing. . . " I felt stupid, rambling it up as I knew that he knew about it all already. He broke me off, though.  
  
"Japanese, right? But you grew up on L1, didn't you? Or are you really an earthling? Do you have a family somewhere?" I watched him as he rattled up question after question in the small room. I think his soft tenor took up more space in the air than we did.  
  
He subdued after a while, taking some deep breaths as if he had just sprinted a whole marathon.  
  
"So." He said again. "I'll ask you a question, you'll answer it and then I'll do so. Then *you* will ask a question and we do the same thing. Deal?"  
  
What was I supposed to do? Say yes, no? Was this how normal people got to know each other? I wouldn't know, so I decided to grunt a non-committal "Hn". That could be affirmative as well as negative.  
  
Of course, he took it they way I hoped he wouldn't. He sat up in the bed, letting the covers fall to reveal a very much bare torso as well as a long, white, though still old, scar going from one nipple to the bellybutton. I stared at the scar when he asked his first question of what would become one of many through our life together.  
  
"Do you enjoy reading?"  
  
I admit that I frowned at that, not understanding what it had to do with anything. "Sometimes. Don't do it a lot."  
  
He thought for a while, and I guessed he was trying to analyze my answer into all possible truths. I could just wonder where he had gotten that scar. It looked so very long. "Why?"  
  
"It's your turn to answer." I reminded him, turning the chair so I was fully facing him. It groaned dangerously and for a moment, I wondered if it was going to be able to bare my weight any longer.  
  
"True." He sighed and fell back onto his bed again. The covers still didn't go higher than to barely cover his hips. "Sometimes too, I guess. Don't really have times either - I'm not exactly a scholar. Why?"  
  
It took me a while to separate answer and question into two different things but when I did, it was easy to answer. "Don't have time to." I paused. "It was my turn to ask."  
  
"Okay. . . shoot."  
  
My confusion must have been easy to detect because he was quick to explain.  
  
"I meant that you should go ahead and ask." He grinned faintly at my frown.  
  
It took me a while to think of a question that wasn't too forward or deep (yet) and decided for what I hoped would be an impartial one. "Have you been to earth before?"  
  
"Nope. I'm a hundred percent L2 colonist." His grin didn't waver one bit. Though, the answer explained why he was pale. Generators used on L2 (and many other colonies as well), because they were cheap, makes it hard to get much sunburned. Therefore, earth can be almost dangerous for colonists before they've gotten used to the real sun. Hair and even occasionally eye colours can pale considerably much.  
  
"I haven't either. Your turn."  
  
He didn't even think before he asked his next question up to the ceiling. "What's your real name?"  
  
My confusion was only momentarily before answering. "Odin."  
  
"No last name?" A chestnut eyebrow rose carefully and I reminded him it was his turn to answer. He grumbled and frowned, still keeping the eye-brow raised. I don't know how he managed. He looked like a guy in a cheap manga I had seen once.  
  
"Don't know." He said at last, leaving me feel mildly confused. "I've never known my real name."  
  
And that finished the 'game'. He didn't look like he wanted to hear any more questions nor ask any of his own, and I let it go. I had another piece to add to my puzzle of Duo Maxwell.  
  
*******  
  
TBC . .  
  
*******  
  
Next up: A side story in Duo's POV about how he feels in the safe-house. I'll add a flashback from the school for those who haven't read 'Friendship?'.  
  
I wanted to thank those who have sent me feedback because it's what I earn from my writing. I love you guys and I'm sorry about how long it takes for me to update sometimes. Thank you for staying with me!  
  
/Maaya 


	5. Distance A Side Story in Duo's POV

Genres/Warnings: Duo POV, angst, sarcasm, shounen ai, strange lines of thoughts. (I watched Evangelion before starting to write.)  
  
Notes: This is a side story to my fan fiction 'Rituals'. I wrote this a long time ago but realised that it would fit into the story line or Rituals rather good. It takes place sometime after it has stopped raining and the guys' clothes have dried.  
  
I don't like when POVs change in a story either, just think of this as a side-story. Sorry!  
  
There's a flashback taken directly from the prequel, 'Friendship' here. For those who have read that story; just skip it. Oh, yeah, I put two happenings together so it would fit better. Think of it as Duo's mind just raced through it all. ~_^  
  
*******  
  
Distance - A Rituals Side Story in Duo's POV by Maaya  
  
*******  
  
We're sharing a safe-house together, you know? It's the first time we've done that before. We do it because we have to learn more about routines, personalities and things like that. That's my start today.  
  
Quatre never mentioned that 'incident' with the teacher, nor did Heero, though I would get the strangest looks directed to me sometimes. I don't think that they ever told Wufei or Trowa about what happened but they certainly began to suspect something after seeing those small glances I got.  
  
Heero. Somehow, I don't get that guy. He agreed to stay with me in the dorm- room that day, and he agreed to share a room with me in this safe-house though I don't really understand why. It's not like he tries to socialize or anything like that because he rarely speaks; not until I say something to him first. Still, I like him. He's like, steady somehow. Seems so sure of himself and yet not.  
  
I can't really explain it.  
  
Come to think of it, I wonder what he thinks of me? I mean, he helped me to wrap my knee and he never said anything about it. He watched me sleep in Deathscythe. He agreed to play my little 'game' with me . . . Like I said, I don't get him.  
  
When he's in the room, I feel like I have to talk . . . have to do anything to keep the silence away from us. It rests upon my shoulders like a heavy blanket that I can't get away from and his presence in the room makes it hard to breathe. And when he went out of the room to finally fetch his goddamn laptop, it got lonely. I guess I can say that, how strange it might sound; Heero's presence in the room comforted me, in a twisted sort of way. Jeez.  
  
Let me tell you something; lying in a bed, alone, during the day without anything to do is not a fun thing to do. Luckily, Quatre came and we talked a bit. Out of all the guys, Quatre is the one I know the best. He's friendly, talks almost as much as I do and likes to be close to people. I like to be close to people.  
  
Now you might say that I should avoid physical contact and such after having that 'incident' but I can't say I've had any more problems than usual with it. Maybe it has to go the whole way before you get 'that' scared.  
  
I don't really know why the 'incident' scared me so much. I mean, I have been through a lot of bad things - so why would I get so scared about such a small thing? Maybe it was because I thought I had been safe in that school. Maybe it was because of the fact that I *got* scared in the first place. It's hard to explain but I think that my own fear scared me a lot. The knowledge of that I was as scared as a normal teenager would have been, if not worse.  
  
I can tell you that I am *not* normal. Not even close. None of us are. God knows if I even want to be any more. A part of me says 'yes' and another 'no'. An inner conflict about the subject. That's bad.  
  
Anyway, here we are, sharing a safe-house. Wufei was in a bad mood for some reason I didn't know about, so I stayed out of his way as much as I could. I didn't really want a fight with someone right then.  
  
I guess our personalities just didn't clash together.  
  
So here I was, lying on my bed, staring up at the boring, white ceiling. There weren't even spots enough to count, something that made it all even more boring. In the background, I could hear Heero typing away on his computer and for some reason, it annoyed me. What was he really doing, anyway?  
  
Have you ever heard a sound that just continued and continued? A sound that you normally don't even notice, but once you do, you can't help but listen to it - how boring it may be able to be? It's like sounds from traffic in a big city. When you've lived there for a while you get used to it but sometimes you can be very frustrated too. You get very tired of that sound, I tell you.  
  
Right now, that sound was Heero's fingers pushing the keys on the keyboard.  
  
I felt I needed to put some distance between us right now.  
  
Rather than saying something to Heero and earning a 'baka', I went out of my room and down the stairs with the plans to search through my jacket pockets after any kind of cigarettes that I might had forgotten there sometime. The bad thing about the safe-house was that you normally didn't have any chance to go shopping. Talking about shopping, however, made me feel hungry. No one had wanted to go to buy supplies in the rain and I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday morning. Not that it hurt me very much as I was used to go without food for long periods since living n the streets, but hey, it's pleasant. And I guess that at least Quatre and Wufei needed food.  
  
From what I had learnt about Wufei, he's a descendant of the Dragon Clan or something like that and about Quatre . . .well. . . the Winner name is hard to miss.  
  
I don't usually smoke but sometimes, when I'm unusually bored or frustrated, I do. I don't even think that the other guys know I smoke.  
  
Luckily, I actually found a cigarette in my pocket and I lit it thoughtfully as I walked towards the living room. Wufei sat there, reading something that looked.. heavy. Literally and otherwise. It took a while before my brain seemed to grab the fact that it was *Wufei* who was sitting there. Wufei - who had been pissed, very pissed, at the world in general whenever I entered.  
  
I knew there was something I had wanted to avoid since I had barricaded myself in mine and Heero's room together with the no-speaking soldier.  
  
At first, he didn't look up when I entered but I could see exactly when he started to smell the smoke from my cig. I can admit that he looked rather funny, sniffing in the air like that, a moment before looking up and spotting me. I fought the urge to wave and grin like a maniac. I think I grinned anyway.  
  
It's strange, isn't it? I grin too much. Don't laugh at me, because I mean it. I grin too much.  
  
I know that people think that I'm stupid, that I'm too positive and happy. They can't be more wrong than that. Okay, maybe I'm stupid - I wouldn't be a soldier otherwise, but positive? Naw.  
  
I just never realized that I grinned when I was sad, or angry. Sometimes I do, in attempts to hide my emotions, but I do it even when I'm not trying. In a way, it scares me.  
  
Now, back to Wufei again. I think I spaced out for a while, thinking about this, so when I returned to the present, we were staring at each other. He looked.. thoughtful. Yup, thoughtful. Don't ask me why.  
  
"You're a smoker." He stated, simply.  
  
"Not really." I replied and tried not to chew on the cigarette. I don't know why I try to do so all the time, but I guess I'm not a born smoker. I should have started with chewing gums instead. Sue me.  
  
He didn't seem confused by my answer, just shrugged and returned to his book. I glanced at the title and felt need to faint. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. . . in English. Hot damn. Was he still reading that godforsaken thing? Didn't he ever get tired of it?  
  
I was going to sit down on the table, but before I had a chance to do so, Wufei said something again.  
  
"Go out." He was scowling at me. Jeez, and I who thought we could be friendly to each other for once.  
  
"Why?"  
  
He sniffed in the air again. "It stinks."  
  
Looking back at it like this, I guess it was stupid ever to assume that he meant that it was *I* who stank. It was rather obvious that he meant the cigarette, not me.  
  
Still, I just *had* to take it the wrong way. It's not like I hadn't heard that before anyway. Those brats at school used to say it. And when you lived at the streets, it was something you got a lot from strangers who happened to see you. Hey, even one of the first things Dr. G ever said to me after our introduction was that I smelled. So it wasn't like I was unfamiliar with the fact.  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
He repeated his earlier statement. "It stinks."  
  
"Well, sooorrry, but I didn't shower this morning."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
I was about to reply something sourly, but it was just as I opened my mouth as the realization dawned upon me and I figured that he was talking about the cigarette, not me. I felt how my cheeks grew red. A veeery red shade. Redder than blood, but now I am being stupid.  
  
"Never mind. I'll go." I slid out of the room quickly, so he wouldn't have time to see my red face.  
  
Jeez, I felt embarrassed. I just hoped that he didn't understood what I had believed. I escaped around the corner, just to almost run into Quatre, who came walking in the opposite direction. I had my palm against my cheek by that time, in a half-hearted attempt of trying to rub the redness away, but I let my hands fall as he looked at me curiously - probably wondering what the hell I was doing. Double jeez. Luckily, the cigarette was hidden in my left hand.  
  
"Hello, Duo." He said, in slightly broken English, looking at me. I couldn't help but grin at the attempt.  
  
"Hi, Quat." I drawled back to him, in the wonderful, very cozy American dialect. You don't know how wonderful it is to speak in your own tongue after talking and hearing Japanese most of the time. Ever been in a foreign country, alone, for a month or two? It makes you feel dizzy when you're forced to hear people speak in other languages around you constantly. I assume that all of the others feel like that too, minus Heero of course, who is Japanese. Or at least on one of his parents' side of the family. One of them was most definitely *not* Asian, as I've never seen a Japanese with blue eyes before. It's too bad that Japanese is the only language we five pilots have in common.  
  
Quatre stroked a too long blonde bang out of his eyes and it was only then I saw the thin sheaf of papers he held in the hand. It was money, rather much to be not so exact. He must have noticed my curious look (hey, we usually save the money we have with us so it wasn't all that strange, but I found it surprising to see Quatre running around with it) because he explained himself quickly.  
  
"I was planning on going shopping now . . .it seems like it stopped raining. Want to come?" He had once again reverted into Japanese and inwardly, I sighed. Before I realized what he had said, that will say.  
  
When I did, I brightened. "Can I? I'm dying from boredom here."  
  
"Sure, get ready. We'll take Wufei's bike." He stepped past me to reach the stairs, probably to go and tell Heero where we were going.  
  
I stared at his back in surprise. Wufei's bike? Of course *Quatre* would be allowed to borrow it. My Chinese fellow pilot did probably not know that I was going too, since he wouldn't let me near that pretty lil' thing of his. I know that it was a childish thought (damn it!) but I couldn't help but feel slightly, very slightly jealous. Damn him, damn me, and damn Quatre.  
  
I'm not sure how he got the bike here but I suspect that he has some kind of space in his gundam to place it during our fights. Makes me wish I had that kind of space too.  
  
I went to put my jacket on anyway, and I only had to wait for a short minute before Quatre arrived. Ha was carrying a big backpack in one hand, and he took his jacket before putting the bag on afterwards.  
  
We went outside without a word, and the coldness hit me like a strong wall of ice. It was grey outside, as the sun couldn't force itself through the thick clouds and the wind was blowing enough to go right trough my thin jacket. Great. Why did I ever agree to follow? It was probably going to be even windier on the bike.  
  
*******  
  
Of course, I had to be right about that. It *was* windier on the bike, and I pressed myself tighter to Quatre's back in front of me, in an useless attempt of stealing some warmth from him. Ever seen the movie, 'Dumb and Dumber'? where the main-guys freeze on to each other for a while after riding their motorcycle? It didn't seem all that funny right now, but I can vaguely remember myself laughing at it back then. I'm so stupid.  
  
"Can't this thing go any faster?" I yelled over the sound of the wind. "It's getting rather chilly back here!"  
  
Quatre's yell back made me realize that 'chilly' was this year's understatement. Apparently, he felt as cold as I did.  
  
It took a while but finally, we arrived to the town. It was really small and didn't have many houses more than some little shops. We entered the one that seemed to sell food first and found that it was bigger inside than expected. I nudged Quatre with an elbow. "Well, what do we need?"  
  
"Food." He replied and I guess he was as clueless as I felt.  
  
Don't go away laughing at us - we were two fifteen year old guys going on a shopping trip for the first time ever. It's not like any of us ever had done that before. I pointed towards the fridges standing in a line against one wall. "Milk? Juice? Or." I paused, with a small grin before continuing with my finger towards some shelves. "Coffee?" My voice was hopeful.  
  
"Milk should do fine, I hope." was his reply. Then. "Do you like coffee?"  
  
I couldn't come up with anything else to do than nod. He thought for a while before answering to that.  
  
"Guess coffee could be fine too; it'll keep us awake if needed. What about orange juice . . . ?"  
  
"Don't know. Never drank it before." I shrugged at the strange look he gave me.  
  
"How did you manage not to do *that*?" was what he asked, horrified. I shrugged again and nodded towards the bread-shelf.  
  
"Should we buy some of that?"  
  
We ended up buying milk, coffee and also juice for the mere reason of letting me try it. Actually, I haven't eaten oranges at all. I got my vitamin C doses from pills only, and Prof. G wasn't very fond of fruits since they were too expensive. So there I was, uneducated in tastes of more exotic fruits. I'm so pathetic.  
  
We also bought bread (whole meal), cheese, butter, meat, salt, rice, vegetables, and various other things that sounded good. I think we did rather good considering it was our first time, like mentioned.  
  
When we reached the bike, we were met by yet another problem. I stared at it. "How the hell are we going to get everything back on *that*?"  
  
Quatre's backpack suddenly felt a very, very small acquaintance.  
  
He shrugged and took it off, studying it with what I wanted to describe as 'trained eyes', though I'm not sure why. "It might even work." was all he said.  
  
"Put the milk in there." I suggested and so we did, finding that the juice went in there, as well as a bag of rice. We stuffed the chocolate bars into the smaller outside pocket and ended up deciding to put the remaining bags beside the two of us on the bike. I had to scuff very close to Quatre to make it work but heck, everything for a little warmth. Just as we were in position, however, I realized two things. The first was that I had forgotten to buy cigarettes and the second . . .  
  
"Quatre, do you know anything about cooking?" I asked.  
  
There was a pause and even though I couldn't see his face, I was sure he had that small frown from surprise scarring his face. When I didn't receive an answer, I sighed.  
  
"Well then, we have to buy a cookbook." I started to move, but was stopped by Quatre's calm voice.  
  
"If you move, everything will fall."  
  
I had to argue. "Let's put the things down then."  
  
"If I move, you can keep the things in place while I run off to buy one." His voice held everything; politeness, calm, friendliness and no-nonsense. I'd had to ask exactly how he did that some day. I couldn't help but sigh again.  
  
"Well then. Don't take too long."  
  
"No, I won't."  
  
And then he was gone.  
  
I sat there for a while, holding the bags tightly, looking in the display windows and slowly freezing my ass off. Where the hell was he anyway? It couldn't possible take that long to buy one mere book, could it?  
  
An old pop-tune began to him, like by itself, from my throat and I tapped my feet in attempts to get warmer. It was, as already stated, really damn cold. The street was small and thin but I figured it still had to be one of the longest in town as there were many shops and boutiques here and less apartments. Most houses were painted in grey or a boring, darkish kind of green. Only a few people were walking around this day; a middle aged woman in blue skirt (I didn't even want to think about how cold it had to be), a mother with her young daughter, two teenage girls, and I guy I guessed was about eighteen. That was all.  
  
The girls wandered down the street towards me, slowly getting closer and closer. I think they were about my age and only fifteen metres away from me when they spotted something, more precisely; me.  
  
Damn. Where the hell was Quatre?  
  
The girls . . . giggled.  
  
I . . . blew a sigh up into my bangs.  
  
They . . . watched me, 'seducing'.  
  
I . . . looked.  
  
They . . . came closer.  
  
'Warning, waning; rabid females three o'clock!' My mind screamed but I was stuck in the same position, not daring to move as the bags could fall.  
  
The result? I was sitting down, feeling very little as they had to bend their necks to see me, and being very, very embarrassed.  
  
I felt stupid, end of story.  
  
"Hi." One of the girls, the red-haired one, winked at me. "Want some . . .company?"  
  
Okay, now I was embarrassed on her behalf too. The last word had been panted out in a badly played need and lust. Even her friend seemed to realize this because she began to snicker wildly instead of giggling like before.  
  
Our eyes met and she blushed, still snickering.  
  
"Sorry, gotta leave soon." My grin felt more strained than usual and was apologizing as I hoped they would just leave me alone.  
  
"Room for us?"  
  
"Don't think so." My under-breath mutter wasn't aloud enough for them to hear. But aloud I said, "Sorry . . ."  
  
"Sandra!" A male voice could be heard behind us, shouting.  
  
Before even I, a trained soldier, had a chance to react, the red-head sat down in front on me and . . . kissed me. Fully, on the lips. My eyes widened in surprise, pure shock, and I couldn't even move. It didn't seem to discourage her. Far from it.  
  
It was stupid of me to remember, okay? I think it was the fact that this was the first kiss after the incident but I should still not be affected that much. I mean, this was a young girl who I could get away from easily. And still, I remembered.  
  
//Flashback Begins//  
  
Before I had a chance to react, he reached out with his hand and caressed my cheek roughly. What the fuck did he think he was doing?! I could feel my cheeks heat in embarrassment and humiliation, but he didn't stop. I shrank away from the touch, but he continued, and leaned towards me.  
  
At first, I didn't understand that he would kiss me, but he certainly did. A wet tongue forced my mouth open, and tasted me, drank, almost drank my saliva.  
  
"You're pretty." He whispered and his breath tickled my ear. I shivered as he bit my ear lobe.  
  
Suddenly, I found myself being turned around and pressed against the wall again, with one of his hands on my back. I managed to turn my head to the left so my chin wouldn't be crushed against the hard wall. Another hand found its way down my back and tugged at the waistband of my pants.  
  
I didn't know what to do, and I choked back a dry sob of pure fear. A memory of seeing a little girl being raped, at the time when I was still living on the streets together with Solo, flashed in front of my eyes and I desperately tried not to panic. How bad could it actually be? I asked myself, but it didn't reassure me much. The girl had screamed and screamed, until she couldn't do that anymore. The man killed her when he was done.  
  
Suddenly, in the corner of my eye, I saw the doorknob shake slightly, as if someone tried to open the door. I didn't dare to hope, but even when I tried not to, a small glint of the annoying emotion woke my body up again, and my brain seemed to be able to think clearly again. I didn't realize until now that I had sunk into a dazed state of fear.  
  
A big hand managed to slide under my waistband and I tried to wiggle myself free again. The hand only pressed harder against my back.  
  
Suddenly, I heard a loud crash, and I saw as the door opened, the lock broken. At first, Mr. Fool didn't seem to react; he just stood there, with me pressed against the wall and with a hand in my pants. It wasn't before when Heero stalked into the room, followed by Quatre, as he let go of me, and I felt my legs give away and I sunk down on the grey floor. . .  
  
//Flashback Ends//  
  
Suddenly I was back in present time again and the gasp I let out went into lips tasting faintly of pineapples. It wasn't unpleasant, I guess, just wet and very, very unwelcome.  
  
I broke away from her, only to feel my shoulders being grabbed by a big and . . . muscular guy.  
  
Suddenly, I felt so very small.  
  
Why can't I ever have a lucky day? Is that too much to ask for? A little unhelpful voice in my head answered yes. Fuck it anyway.  
  
"What the hell are ya doing?" The guy bellowed and shook me by my shoulders like if I was a kid who had done something stupid. I just gripped the bags closer to my chest in a sick wish to keep them from falling. Why I thought about that right then, I don't know.  
  
"Keep your paws away from her!" He shouted again.  
  
Ah. I got it; at least I think I did. It was this stereo-typical boyfriend whose gal kissed someone else in order to make him jealous.  
  
And now this jealous, big . . .muscular boyfriend was after my guts. Hooray.  
  
I let my eyes wander for a couple of seconds to take in the girls' expressions. The red-head, Sandra, had gotten up from the bike and looked annoyingly . . . pleased. Her friend stood close by, looking faintly confused.  
  
"Hey, dude --" I tried and frenetically wondered where Quatre was. "Nothing happened, we . . . she just. . . "  
  
But just like any stereo-typical jealous, dumb bully, this one didn't take his time to listen to explanations. His fist came up and I barely had time to duck as it suddenly came rushing towards me with admirable speed.  
  
Fortunately, I managed to keep my hold on the bags. But when the second fist however came, I wasn't able to do so. Out of sheer reaction I let go of the bags and managed to roll off the bike, landing on the ground in an ungraceful heap before getting on my feet. All this took about five seconds - I'm so good.  
  
"Hey, buddy --" I said with a hand raised in front of me that served two purposes. One - to show him I wasn't about to hit. Two - to block him if *he* wanted to hit. "Nothing happened, 'kay? She kissed me, not the other way around. Got it?"  
  
I was tempted to add an 'asshole' to the statement but resisted. I don't like to eat my own guts, thank you very much.  
  
"He's right, you know." The girl, whose name was still unbeknownst to me, said quietly, "He didn't do a thing."  
  
I wanted to kiss her. Well, maybe not, but certainly thank her.  
  
"Duo?"  
  
I know for a fact that I grinned in relief as I heard the well-known voice say my name. "Quatre!"  
  
He looked confused; staring at me, the guy, and finally the bags lying on the ground in unattractive heaps. "What's going on here, Duo?" He looked at me.  
  
Before I had a chance to say something, the friend spoke up, sounding rushed and oddly embarrassed. "We had a . . . misunderstanding." I snorted at the understatement but she ignored me. "But it is all cleared up now, right?"  
  
She gave her two friends a glare that rivaled Heero's and they subdued, how strange that might sound. Quatre's voice felt like an adult's who had walked in on two kids fighting. He acted so . . . old, sometimes.  
  
When I realized the girl was looking at me questioning, I nodded. "Yeah, everything's okay."  
  
"Fine then . . . uh . . . bye."  
  
And then they disappeared, probably to argue, solve their problems, or break up. I wasn't too sure what sounded like the most plausible in my ears.  
  
I gave them the finger towards their backs. Petty, I know - but mildly satisfying in a childish sort of way. Quatre just stood there, looking at me until I was beginning to feel embarrassed.  
  
I noted all of a sudden that he was carrying a thick book under his right arm. A *very* thick book to be exact - it looked more like the holy bible Father Maxwell kept in the church than a simple cookbook. I wondered what the hell we would do with so many recipes. It's not like any of the guys would ever decide to become gourmet-cooks, though it would have been a funny sight. But I shouldn't think so much.  
  
"What was that about?" He asked and bent down to gather some things that had fallen out of the bags on the ground. Thank God the milk and juice had been in the backpack or otherwise things would have been rather sticky by now, especially considering we kept most of the bread and vegetables in those bags. Somehow, milk and bread . . . 'goo' didn't appeal very much to me. And I am used to eat a little bit of everything.  
  
I told him my story when we filled the bags again, feeling more than a little embarrassed now afterwards. It's only I who can get into those messes on a regular basis. I did, however, wrap it up a little (not lying, mind you, just giving it a more humorous light) and he laughed while I played indignant. When I mock growled at him, he only laughed even harder.  
  
When I proceeded to lift the bags again, I caught him looking at me, strange light in his eyes. Unable to help myself, I squirmed under his stare. Following his eyes, my head bent down until I sighted my cross resting outside my shirt. It must have fallen out from where I had tucked it in when I rolled off the bike. Oh well.  
  
Without saying anything, I geared it by its chain and tucked it into my black shirt again, feeling uncomfortable once again. The cross belonged to the serious part of me, a side that people usually didn't like or know very much.  
  
"Are you religious?" Quatre asked at length.  
  
I shrugged and kept my tone casual. "Not really. I keep it for . . . a friend." Yeah, a friend. A very dead friend, but a friend nonetheless. I blinked to keep betraying warmth out of my eyes.  
  
I could tell he was curious now. "Who?"  
  
"A . . . very good friend."  
  
"Girlfriend?" Interest was clear in his voice and I choked, partly because of surprise, partly because of the lump in my throat.  
  
"Excuse me?" Then I shrugged and said simply. "Just a friend."  
  
"Oh. Why?"  
  
I tried to grin his question away. "Just because. Can't we go back now?"  
  
And we did.  
  
*******  
  
End of Distance  
  
*******  
  
Phew, remind me never to write ten pages in two days again! Hope you like this chapter anyway, and I love comments! ~_^  
  
/Maaya 


	6. Part 5

Standard disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of the characters appearing in the show. They belong to Sunrise, Bandai etc. The plot in this story that has nothing to do with the GW timeline, however, is mine. Deal with it.  
  
Warnings/Genres: Heero POV, slight angst, 1+2-hints, OOC, tiny lil bit o' action. . .  
  
Authors Notes:  
  
1) This chapter is probably the most boring yet ;_; , but it'll hopefully happen more in the next one.  
  
2) I've watched both the Japanese and the American Gundam Wing episodes and since I like the Japanese voices better, imagine the guys talking in those. Not very important for the fic, just thought I'd let you know. ~_^  
  
3) There are things in this chapter that probably isn't technically possible, mostly because I didn't want to try it, but think of this as the future. They have invented gundams; why not develop other things as well?  
  
*******  
  
Rituals - Part 5 by Maaya  
  
*******  
  
It did eventually stop raining, allowing me to go outside and fetch my laptop from 'Wing's cockpit even before my clothes were completely dry. I left Duo, asleep in his bed; curled up into such a small ball he was completely hidden under the old covers the safe house had been supplied with. When the clothes were finally dry, he had disappeared on a shopping trip with Quatre.  
  
I asked myself how exactly Wufei wanted him to 'prove' himself and decided he wasn't doing a very great job so far, especially since he had been bedridden for most of the day.  
  
Though, no matter how he acted afterwards, Duo had done well on the battlefield. He's not a strategist, that one thing was clear for he was too. . . 'wild', not seeing the whole picture and probably not caring all that much anyway. But still, good. Maybe the most talented among us, but not necessarily the best.  
  
I am better.  
  
I'm not saying that to boast about it, why would I? I'm saying it because it's true.  
  
Duo might be better than Quatre and Wufei, maybe even Trowa but he's not better than me. It's a fact. I have been trained too long to not know it all, techniques, battle-strategies, weapon-knowledge, by heart.  
  
Wufei is an aggravated fighter without mercy. He wants to kill or be killed.  
  
I typed on the small, black laptop-keys without pausing for even the slightest second, staring at the screen in hope of coming up with the code to use.  
  
Then the screen got black.  
  
I tell you no lie, the computer shut off completely, the screen got black and the blower stopped working, filling the room with silence I hadn't been aware had been missing.  
  
Feeling vaguely dumbfounded and happy that no one had seen me blink at the empty screen, I reached out to try if it worked to turn it on again, and yes, it did.  
  
The internet connection however, didn't work. I had connected my laptop through the old wall socket and it had worked, unsurprisingly, so as we probably wouldn't be sent anywhere we couldn't be easily contacted.  
  
But now it didn't work anymore. That didn't feel like a good sign.  
  
But as Internet apparently didn't work for the time being, I couldn't see any reason for staying in front of the computer, so instead I went downstairs, wondering how to fix the telephone lines.  
  
Quatre and Duo were talking in the kitchen; I could hear their voices; Quatre's almost feminine one and Duo's much deeper, all way from the stairs. From the sound of it, I guessed they were newly arrived from their trip and when I stepped into the kitchen, it became confirmed.  
  
There were bags, and a backpack placed on the table, seemingly filled with various food supplies and such. No first aid kits, though, or anything else or that sort. Quatre, who was proceeding to put things away in sundry cupboards, caught my stare and seemed to understand the underlying question in it.  
  
"We decided that the kits in our gundams would be enough for the time being. Food is more important right now." He said with an apologetic smile, like if he excused himself for something he didn't feel guilty for. Then he turned away and continued to fill the refrigerator with milk and juice.  
  
It was . . . strange to watch them work because it seemed so - so . . . usual for them. Too normal for me to ever have seen it before.  
  
Duo looked up at me just as I had fully stepped into the kitchen, still watching him and Quatre.  
  
"Hey, Heero? D'you know how to cook?" He asked and I would be lying if I said the question didn't surprise me. I thought for a while, going through old memories, until finally deciding on a suitable answer.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
Cooking hadn't been something J had added to his list of what I needed to know.  
  
"Then," he paused long enough to pick up a large book out from a bag, "we're gonna have to study this." He let it fall heavily onto the table, allowing me to read its title. When I had, I looked up again.  
  
"A . . . cookbook?"  
  
He grinned. "That's right. Now." He nodded towards the book. "Read."  
  
I looked at him, blankly.  
  
He looked back.  
  
Did you know that his eyes don't fit very well together with that grin? They don't laugh as much as his mouth - and his brows are always just pointing faintly too much down towards his nose. Like if he would be annoyed or very, very concentrated.  
  
In all, that grin and those eyes in the same face make him look devilish. Mischievous. Maybe even maniac.  
  
I frowned and broke our eye contact. He looked almost . . . dazed.  
  
"Yeah, you don't *have* to." He muttered and it took me a while to realize that he meant reading the book. "Just don't use that glare on me."  
  
I shrugged.  
  
It took us quite a while to fix a somewhat decent meal, though 'decent' can vary a lot depending on the eater's view. Looking back on it, I admit we were disastrous. Facts like that butter or cooking oil needed to be added to spaghetti or that you don't need quite 'that' much cheese to add were unknown to us during that time.  
  
I studied the guys' way of eating carefully and decided that Quatre and Wufei were definitely from rich families, or at least from upper middleclass. Their way of eating was decisively correct, straight back, small mouthfuls, closed mouth while chewing . . . and so on. Though of course, I did the same thing, just not with the same air of . . . correctness. I don't think I have an air of anything.  
  
Trowa ate more like me, carefully, methodically, making sure no kind of poison infected the spaghetti.  
  
Duo ate with an air of . . . hungriness. I don't know how to describe it else than that. He moved his fork and knife neither without pausing nor to talk. It was strange to see him so quiet. But then again - strange was probably the best way of describing the last couple of days altogether.  
  
After dinner, or if you should call it lunch, both Quatre and Duo seemed to brighten up, however. They began to talk about various, unnecessary things and laughed. It was like their words sneaked through Trowa's, mine, and Wufei's bodies on their way towards each other.  
  
"We forgot to buy something." Quatre suddenly said in a different - more serious voice that made us all look up at him quickly. Duo burst out laughing.  
  
"You look like," He snickered, not noticing how out of place his amusement was as everybody looked at him in questioning silence. "Like dogs suddenly hearing food falling into their dog bowls. I could see how your ears turned toward Quatre together with the rest of your heads . . . Heerotriever . . ." And with that, he burst out laughing again, sides heaving up and down swiftly until he controlled himself. We ignored him.  
  
"What, Quatre?" Trowa did pointedly not look at the braided boy.  
  
The other boy hesitated. "Well . . . washing-up liquid . . . we need to do dishes too."  
  
It felt slightly annoying how little we knew about this kind of things.  
  
"Maybe soap will do?" Was Duo's suggestion. "It can't matter 'that' much, can it? Heero, you'll help me?"  
  
I blinked, first surprised, then annoyed, seizing him with a glare. "I'll do the dishes. You'll dry."  
  
His face changed fairly quickly, from doubting to surprised, from surprised to shocked, from shocked to indignant, and from indignant to another one of his impish grins. When he wears that grin, I have to keep remind myself that he is a gundam pilot. It's so easy to forget sometimes . . .  
  
So I ended up doing the dishes, with Duo beside me to take whatever I was finished with, dry it and then put it away somewhere. We used soap - maybe it wasn't the best thing because it was harder to clean away than washing- up liquid but it worked well enough for us anyway.  
  
The lukewarm water was slippery against my hands but felt, in a way, also good. Relaxing. At least until my fingers started to prune.  
  
More than once, I looked up and caught him looking at me. When it happened, I glared until he looked away again but I got tired of it after a while.  
  
"What?" I grunted out into the silence, causing him to jump. His braid fell into a puddle of lathery water on the dish-bench, making the tip wet and lathery from soap. But he didn't seem to notice.  
  
"It's --" He hesitated but only for a short second. "-- strange to see you do that." His nod towards my hands holding a clean plate indicated that he meant the washing up.  
  
I looked him over. "And you look strange doing that."  
  
He did. Wearing black pants and a black shirt, ruffled after having gotten wet and dried again, didn't quite fit with the red and white cloth he used to dry off a fork. He started and looked at me - I think I surprised him by really answering him.  
  
"I think we have reached an agreement." He let the fork fall into an open drawer under the dish-bench. Then, unexpectedly. "How old are you?"  
  
"Fifteen." Came my immediate answer and I waited.  
  
"Fifteen. I think." He looked at me, expectantly.  
  
I fulfilled his wait. "Why do you wear black?"  
  
He looked . . .'flat'. Yes, that's the word. Flat. "I guess I'm used to it."  
  
I opened my mouth to answer my own question, modifying it to fit my needs and spandex. "I wear practical clothes."  
  
He didn't seem surprised, just shrugged with a lopsided, slightly melancholic grin. I think he uses his grins to show his emotions. He has a sad grin, a devilish, a happy, a twisted one . . . the list can go on and on like pi.  
  
And now he subdued, wearing a grin and fluffy soap-suds on his cheek. I'm not sure how he manages to get it there in the first place since he was the one to dry the dishes, away from water and soap. But he looked ridiculous with it. And oddly . . . pleasurable.  
  
It annoyed me.  
  
My fingers itched to dry it away so I dipped them underwater again and found another plate to clean to keep them occupied. "You have lather on your cheek."  
  
"Oh." His face did a funny little change from thoughtful to sheepishly surprised, doing a somewhat failed attempt to reclaim his cool. "Yeah." And dried it away.  
  
My fingers stopped itching and I dared to hand him the plate.  
  
We didn't say anything for a long while and sometime in the heavy silence I suddenly heard a weak sound, akin to the one coming when you hung up a phone in a house. I was satisfied knowing that the telephone lines worked and that I didn't need to go out and find it myself, especially since it had started raining again.  
  
Duo perked up at the sound. "What was that?"  
  
I handed him a knife to dry. "The telephone lines."  
  
"They've been out?"  
  
"Yes." I confirmed. "Duo?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
I think I let out a soft puff of air that could be qualified as a sigh. "You have lather in your face again."  
  
*******  
  
TBC  
  
*******  
  
I'm planning on about eleven chapters in this story, I think, and something's gonna happen soon . . .  
  
*wanders away to watch 'Rocky Horror Picture Show'.*  
  
*sings* "I'm a sweet transvestite from transsexual Transylvania . . . " 


	7. Part 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing o any of its characters. Eventual OCs, mainly OZ-officers and a couple of civilians in the side story to Rituals, however, are mine. The rest of the guys; Duo, Heero etc. belong to Sunrise, Bandai and those names I can't spell properly. Now, this has to be the most unorganized disclaimer I've ever written so I'll end it here. I'm sure you all got what I meant anyway.  
  
Notes: Someone (sorry, I can't remember your name) complimented my grammar in this story. ^_^ I just had to say that without my beta-reader, sailor c. ryoko, there would be a lot of errors. So the honour is not mine.  
  
Hmm, I used another conversation between Duo and Heero doing the dishes because it was a good opportunity to make a little more understanding between them. I didn't want to use the dish-thing again because I already used it, but indulge with me like you always do, okay?  
  
*******  
  
Rituals - Part 6 by Maaya  
  
*******  
  
As a couple of days went by, I thankfully noted that Duo didn't have anymore nightmares, even though he still kept himself curled into a small ball under the covers when he slept. I did it too sometimes, in the habit of trying to keep as warm as possible, so that didn't really surprise me. Something that did surprise me though, was that it was *Duo* curling into a ball like that.  
  
I did it, like already stated, to keep as warm as possible. It was a habit, something I had been forced to do in order to survive with Odin and then Dr. J. That didn't explain why *Duo* was doing it.  
  
Not that it was needed in the safe-house anymore, because the heating system seemed to work better and better the longer it was kept on and going, but I guess that some habits die hard. Maybe Duo had somewhat the same habits as I did?  
  
It had become apparent that the only one who had any kind of knowledge in cooking was Trowa, something that surprised me almost as much as it surprised Duo. He had, because of that, been offered a place in the kitchen. He accepted it without question but I don't think he was very happy about it. Quatre and Wufei did the cleaning in the public parts of the house, though I didn't think that it was needed since no one ever thought about doing anything that could untidy the rooms.. Duo and I did the dishes, just like he had offered to do the first day. I had no idea that domestic chores forced you talk that much though.  
  
I don't really like to talk. There's a reason for it: the sudden, uncomfortable questions that can come in the middle of the conversation. Not that the questions themselves have to be uncomfortable, but having to answer them might be. That's maybe why talking with Duo is easier than talking with someone else. For some reason, his questions rarely feel as uncomfortable as others and even if they were, it doesn't bother me as much.  
  
"Anything interesting?"  
  
I looked up from the laptop bemusedly and looked at Duo. He was lying on his back on the bed and had been staring up at the ceiling for the past ten minutes during which I had checked my mails and found none of interest.  
  
"No." I replied flatly and went back to my laptop again. "Do something useful instead of lying there." The boring days of doing practically nothing made me feel rather short-tempered.  
  
He sat up and glared at me. "Hey, that wasn't very nice!"  
  
I shrugged. "No one has ever called me nice."  
  
He got quiet again and I wondered if I had said anything wrong.  
  
A knock on the door disturbed the awkward silence and at Duo's mumbled "come in", Quatre peeked inside.  
  
"Dinner's ready." He said to the room in general, then turned to Duo. "We decided to let you try the juice today."  
  
Duo perked up at the words, having a strange mix of embarrassment and excitement written in his face. "Great!"  
  
Quatre must have seen, or felt my confusion because he spoke again, this time nodding towards Duo. "He has never had orange juice."  
  
I looked at him blankly but he just shrugged.  
  
Duo stood up swiftly, and turned with a weird jerk on his heels. The braid swung, like a late shadow of his back. He walked over to the door where Quatre was standing, then stopped and looked at me. "You coming, Heero?"  
  
"Yes." I shut down the computer and followed him out of the door.  
  
Trowa had made some kind of stew out of rice, vegetables and meat; I assumed he had the wholesomeness in thought when he made it, not only the taste. Not that it mattered for me; it was just a statement, not a complaint mind you. . . and I think Duo is rubbing of on me with his speech-pattern.  
  
Quatre filled a glass with orange liquid and handed it to Duo, who took it and studied it suspiciously in his hand. The he looked up and saw mine and Quatre's attention on him and grimaced. "Hey, what's the fuss?"  
  
It served to make Quatre look down, cheeks suspiciously pink, and Trowa and Wufei to look up, questioningly. They watched rather curiously as Duo drew a deep breath before suddenly lifting the glass to his lips . . . and swallowing its contents in one go.  
  
When he was done, he grimaced again. "That was sour."  
  
Quatre couldn't repress a chuckle. "Oranges are rather sour Duo."  
  
"Whatever." He stood up from the chair he had sunk down into and walked over to the faucet to fill the emptied glass with water. Taking a large swallow, he filled it again and returned to the table, meeting Wufei's curious glance. "What?"  
  
The Chinese man to the left of me looked like he would dismiss it, but changed his mind in the last second. "Have you never eaten an orange before?" He wondered.  
  
"Umm . . . no?" Duo made it sound like a humorous question but the redness tinting his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment and stopped everyone from asking any further questions. A moment of silence passed before Duo's hesitant voice spoke again.  
  
"Uhh - Wufei?"  
  
The answer came in form of a nod that seemed to encourage him because Duo continued.  
  
"I was wondering . . . could I borrow your book? The Shakespeare one?" He made an attempt at explaining himself. "It would be nice to read something in English once in a while."  
  
Something seemed to pass between the two of them, a silent eye contact that for some reason annoyed me.  
  
It broke. "I'll give it to you later."  
  
The words made Duo smile.  
  
We set to eat before the food got all too cold and the only sound that could be heard was Duo's and Quatre's conversations at the end of the table. They murmured lowly, as if trying not to disturb the heavy blanked of silence between Trowa, Wufei, and me, and the small sound weaved into it well enough to become relaxing.  
  
"I have a mission."  
  
It surprised me that it was Wufei who spoke - not because of what he was saying but because he spoke at all. He met our eyes and continued.  
  
"I'll leave tomorrow and will stay at a motel until things calm down and I will be able to easier leave the city. Nataku isn't necessary for the mission."  
  
His sentences were short and informative and I grunted in approval partly to show I had heard. The words contained all information necessary minus . . .  
  
"When will you arrive back?" Someone, I think it was Quatre, asked.  
  
"In a week, approximately Thursday."  
  
Wufei stood up and took his empty plate to the sink before retreating up to his room again and after that did also Trowa and eventually Quatre disappear from the table, leaving the dishes for Duo and me to take care of.  
  
Duo always preferred to dry and it left me to do the actual washing, but after a couple of days of doing it, I had gotten used to it. I actually liked to feel the warmth against my hands - it was comforting.  
  
We used to talk sometimes, Duo obviously liked to talk, but today he was quieter than usual. I spared him several side-glances and waited for him to explain himself. If he did, I would listen, and if he preferred to keep it to himself then it was none of my business.  
  
Finally, he sighed and looked at me. "When do you think we'll get to leave this place?"  
  
I didn't look at him. "When they tell us we're allowed to."  
  
"Do you always follow the rules, Heero?"  
  
"When they are logical, I do."  
  
"Don't you ever question them?" He sounded flustered, almost desperate?  
  
I didn't answer him. Rules are made to be followed, right? Otherwise they wouldn't be there; anyone would be smart enough to understand that. I frowned and left the thoughts for the moment.  
  
When we were done in the kitchen, we went back to our room in lack of other things to do and I went to put on the laptop.  
  
"Can I borrow that to check my mail and stuff? I left mine in Deathscythe and don't want to go all the way there now." Duo nodded pointedly towards the window and I followed his gaze. It was almost dark already and the light that was still left held a dark blue tint to it.  
  
"I . . ."  
  
A monotone beep from my laptop broke me off in mid-speak and I turned my full attention towards it, ignoring Duo's strangely . . . indignant look and fractious frown. With some rapid movements with my fingers on the keys, I opened the incoming mail and read it through from top to bottom.  
  
Duo put a hesitant hand on my shoulder and looked over it to read too and when I didn't say anything about the contact, the hand seemed to settle down a little, resting more heavily on my upper arm.  
  
The mail was short and informative about a mission, like expected and somewhere behind me I dimly heard Duo sigh softly. "When are you going to leave?"  
  
"Four hours."  
  
"Who's your backup?" He queried, surprising me enough to blink once. When I didn't answer, he waved a hand in front of my face. "Hellooo - I asked you a question, you know." He studied my face and suddenly stopped waving and settled for just . . . staring at me, odd grin in place.  
  
I looked back, meeting his wide eyes with my own. "What?"  
  
"You --" He sounded disbelieving though I couldn't figure out why. "You . . . didn't react."  
  
I continued to look at him blankly and repeatedly grunt. "What?"  
  
He reached out towards my face again, quickly, and without thinking, I suddenly had his wrist in a firm . . .very hard grip. Without stopping to further note his pained expression, my hands twisted his arm around and suddenly I was standing there, holding his arm up against his back in a hard grip. I let go off him, muttering a low. "Sorry."  
  
"Hey, it's okay." He grinned, a pained little grin that made me feel a little guilty and rubbed his lower arm, wincing while doing so. "I deserved it. Still, you didn't do it the first time." He somehow managed to look extremely pleased with himself at the discovery at the same time as he tried not to wince in front of me.  
  
I frowned a little at the knowledge that I had let my guard down enough to let him gesture swiftly near to me. "It won't happen again." I promised him.  
  
It seemed to please him even more. "Is that a challenge?"  
  
"No." I replied honestly and suddenly remembered his earlier question. "I won't bring any backup."  
  
"Eh? You're kiddin' me??"  
  
"No."  
  
"Are you ever positive?"  
  
I thought for a while. "Yes."  
  
He gave me that strange stare again before breaking out in another pained grin. "Hey, I didn't know you had a sense of humor. Rather dry, I guess, but humor nonetheless --"  
  
He was babbling again. I took time to study his face as he did and realized his face looked unusually tight. A small frown scarred his forehead and his jaw was clenched, having to be forced into movement - I could see how his muscles strained in his face. Nothing of this was obvious, but when you looked very closely, it was there. How hard, exactly, had I gripped his arm? The white marks began to turn into a dark shade of red. The small touch of guilt grew in my chest but I pushed it down again.  
  
"Hey, Heero?"  
  
I looked up at his face. "Yes." It was not a question, just a small statement to make him continue.  
  
"Are you afraid of death?" He tilted his head slightly to the left as he said those words and his eyes spoke of a deeper . . . meaning in those words. A meaning I didn't know about nor understood, so I answered the . . . un-deep question.  
  
"No."  
  
He thought about that for a while and then tilted his head to the other side, eyes beginning to play a strange melody I couldn't quite fathom. "In a way, I am, but in a way, I'm not." He said at length.  
  
I decided it was my turn to ask now. "Am I a friend?"  
  
It wasn't what I had planned to ask, and I think I shocked myself even more than I shocked him. I refused to meet his eyes and I am almost sure I felt myself flush as my cheeks grew hotter and hotter. I snapped my mouth closed as he opened it to gape at me. His entire jester was gone now as he stared at me in honest surprise, small frown evident in his face. "What did you say?"  
  
"Nothing." I mumbled and turned around to walk out of the door. Behind me, I heard Duo mutter a quiet 'asshole' but his voice was strangely. . . affectionate. Then.  
  
"Hey, I'm coming with you!"  
  
I stopped. "What?"  
  
"On your mission. I read the information - there's no way for you to do that yourself. Not even you can make it alone."  
  
I frowned at him and the last remains of my blush disappeared. I decided it was . . . strange to blush. I couldn't remember any time when I had done that before but as I said . . . it felt strange. When I didn't answer, he elaborated.  
  
"It says you're going to break into the base, find the data-centre and steal information. That's the easy part, you can do that yourself." He waited for me to nod. "The hard part is where you have to blow that centre into pieces. There's no way for you to carry explosives enough into the base, steal info and then place it all out before more than one person a time can find you."  
  
I frowned again. "The doctors must have thought about that."  
  
"You sure?" He shrugged with a grin. "I've always thought Prof. G was a little crazy."  
  
I couldn't argue with that.  
  
*******  
  
TBC  
  
******* 


	8. Part 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters. And since this disclaimer is probably useless anyway, since this story is labelled 'fan fiction', I'd better stop writing this disclaimer anyway.  
  
No - I cannot see Heero stretching, it would be a rather weird mental image for my part, but it *is* good for you. And not even Heero-the-superhuman can keep in shape without training. At least not *my* Heero. *resolute nod* -- let's just pretend he doesn't to it too visibly, 'kay? -  
  
I didn't get many reviews on the last part - have everyone stopped reading? Reviews make me write faster, just thought you maybe wanted to know. *coughcough-hint-coughcough*  
  
***  
  
Rituals - Part 7 by Maaya  
  
***  
  
"Right, Heero?"  
  
"Yes." I agreed, without really knowing to what anymore, and shifted the knapsack a little so that the hard lump of C4 settled slightly more comfortably between my shoulder blades. The setting of the sun was arriving and held the world in a blue half-light that it made Duo's eyes to look more dark blue than amethyst.  
  
"How far is it left?" He asked cheerfully.  
  
"Three kilometres."  
  
"Oh." He paused. "I'm getting a hard on."  
  
I didn't even blink at the 'news'. "You've said that already."  
  
He stopped and looked surprised. "I have? When?"  
  
"Back at the safe-house." I turned my head, looked at him and added "Second day" when he still looked confused. His face was expressionless whilst he thought for a while, and then his shoulders suddenly slumped, heavily so because of the weight of his own knapsack.  
  
"Oh, well." He complained before starting another steam of words, mostly a one-sided conversation.  
  
He had become more and more talkative the closer we came to the base and didn't seem able to wipe a wide grin off from his face. Where I usually became quieter than usual and thoughtful before a mission, he became happy and a tad bit more 'air-heady'. More . . . annoying too. I sighed and hoped he would become better when the actual mission began.  
  
It had been decided that we would meet up with Wufei at a motel and wait out the main stir together, eventually also tend injuries during about four days before finding our way out of town and returning to the safe-house.  
  
Wufei had taken the bike and left without any other word, so Duo and I had been forced to walk to the nearest city whereas Duo had used his abilities as a thief and stolen a car, whilst Wufei took his motorbike.  
  
So we had walked, and then taken turns at driving until we ran out of gas on a small forest road just before entering a city. We could, of course, have stopped at a gas station earlier but the lesser we were spotted, the better.  
  
We had studied the base's layout together before leaving and settled for a simple plan. The building was surrounded by civilian houses and a high metal fence, so blowing it all up was out of question, and would also go against the orders we'd received. We would instead sneak aboard a truck with supplies that was scheduled to arrive every Saturday night and as Duo put it, 'get a lift' into the base's supply depot. Sneaking out of there would probably not be very hard, and neither of us was to use our guns more than when absolutely necessary - they sounded a little even with silencer. Knives were definitely the better alternative, even though you had to sneak up closely to the target before killing it.  
  
Yes, I think of targets as 'it'. It's easier to kill an object than taking a life.  
  
I glanced at Duo out of the corner of my eye again and studied his eyes and face. He . . . glowed, no doubt about it. Did he really look forward to the mission as much as he seemed to? But even though he glowed, his brows were tense under the long bangs, as if he concentrated very much on something. I went back to my earlier staring, right ahead, and thought about the plan again - trying to find eventual faults in it. I didn't even notice when he stopped talking somewhere along the way.  
  
It had rained earlier, it seemed, because the streets were wet and every light reflected in the black asphalt, reminding me of the white stars in a dark night sky. We used dark alleys and smaller roads as we walked through the city, so not to be sighted by too many eyes. Duo's black clothes melt into the shadows and I could almost not see him, even though my night vision was a lot better than most people's - not even the idle swaying of his braid was there, because he had stuffed it into the back of his outfit.  
  
I couldn't even hear him breathe, and I thought for a twisted moment that he had managed to somehow leave me, but when I listened very closely I could make out small, slow inhales and exhales. This was Duo in his thief- mode. I knew my breaths were just as careful.  
  
We came out on a bigger street again and I spotted 'our' truck that was being loaded by men who were talking and laughing in loud voices. I stopped and slid into the shadows between some old rubbish bins and the stonewall gesturing for Duo to follow.  
  
"Five minutes." I muttered lowly into his ear, meaning that it would take about five minutes before they left. We stood close enough to each other that I felt him nod against the side of my head - his body pressed against me tightly. He sneaked an arm around my waist to keep his balance in the small place, making us stand even closer. I noted for no reason at all that he smelled sweaty, with an undertone of some deodorant-scent I couldn't place. It was sweet, like cinnamon or gingerbread, but still fresh, flowerish somehow. [1]  
  
We stood there, pressed against each other for five minutes, before the driver climbed into his seat and started the motor, and I tensed, knowing we would have to run soon. Duo did the same beside me. After another minute of talking to the man who had helped loading, the driver let out a ringing laugh and waited until the other man had disappeared into the shop before slowly starting down the street.  
  
"Now." I whispered.  
  
I had time to see him flash a grin at me in the light of a streetlamp before we both broke out into a quick and quiet run, avoiding to be spotted for too long in the rear view mirror as we reached the back of the truck before it had speed up enough.  
  
I grabbed a metal verge with a hand and held on to reach for Duo's hand and pull him up beside me with a quick jerk, letting go when I felt him steady himself by grabbing the same verge I was holding.  
  
It was fairly easy to slip inside the actual truck platform, it was the cheap kind of wall that didn't need to be lowered, but instead had a thin metal sliding door that folds automatically. You found that kind of trucks mostly on the colonies because they were more simple to produce, and didn't need as much material as the older kind.  
  
Duo grumbled something I couldn't make out in the noise from the truck when he slipped beside behind me and pushed the door closed, cutting off the noise a little. He sighed and leaned against one large packing case.  
  
"Well, twenty minutes to go."  
  
His voice was kept low, to not assert the driver of our presence. I nodded in approval, partly because of that, and partly because of his approximated time. Walking over to the case, I leaned against it beside Duo and relaxed, knowing fully well I would need to be at my top. The walk and run had been a good warm up, though I would probably need to stretch to keep my body warm before leaving the truck. Duo, however, seemed slightly exhausted.  
  
"You should sit down." I told him. "You need as much strength as possible."  
  
He looked at me, surprised and a little offended. "I can't see *you* sitting down."  
  
"I don't need it as much as you." I didn't - I wasn't even sweaty after our walk and sudden run, but Duo was obviously growing a layer of sweat on his forehead, and his breath had quickened. Not that he was in a bad shape - he was in a lot more physically fit than a normal person, but I was still better off than him.  
  
"I'll stand - thank you very much." He muttered, tone betraying his hurt pride and stubbornness. "You can't be all that better than m --"  
  
I had grabbed his shoulder and pushed him down in sitting position and he, taken by surprise, didn't resist. He stared at me wide-eyed for a moment before opening his mouth so say something I would never hear, because I cut him off before he had even started.  
  
"Deep breaths." I instructed matter-of-factly, ignoring the strange look he sent my way. "Stretch your arms."  
  
It suddenly dawned upon me that I actually cared. I wanted him to feel better, not just for the sake of the mission. If it were for the mission, I would have ignored it because he wasn't really endangering it - possibly slow it down, but it would be none of my concern. I would finish the mission without caring if he got caught.  
  
But the key-word is *would*. Because I probably wouldn't any longer.  
  
He glared at me, looking as if I had suddenly told him his hair was pink and tied in small pigtails all over his skull.  
  
I was unfazed. "Rest, but don't let your muscles cool down."  
  
Now he looked as if he had swallowed something sour, face grim and jaw clenched. "Don't tell me what to do!" He snapped, but seemed to regret it and put up a mocking grin instead. "Was that an order?"  
  
I studied his face for a short while, confused. "No. It was for your own good. " Checking my watch, I couldn't help but hope that the answer had been the best one. Would he do as I said if I ordered him to it?  
  
The sudden, if tense, smile relieved me and I almost caught myself smiling back. Almost, though.  
  
We did the rest of the short trip in silence and Duo actually did some stretching, though he glared at me all the time, as if he expected me to mock him or something.  
  
I felt the truck slow down long before it actually stopped, and I could imagine the driver being stopped and questioned about his cargo, maybe talk and tell the soldier some news and jokes, before the noise of steel rub against stone told us that a gate had been opened and the truck started going again.  
  
We heard again as the gate closed behind us, and I sent Duo, who stood by the door to the truck and looking at me questioningly, a look and nod, telling him without words that he should start opening it.  
  
He grinned, suddenly all happiness and cheerfulness again, and complied.  
  
He slid the door open slowly, mindful not to make the slightest sound and looked around with sharp eyes, before nodding to me - announcing that the coast was clear. And before I had the time to blink, much less nod back, he grinned quickly towards me before jumping down and out of sight.  
  
I stopped and stared, surprised, at where he had disappeared and a little voice in my head groaned and waited for a sound of him touching the floor to reach my ear.  
  
But no such sound came, how long I ever waited.  
  
The truck was still moving, but only a little, and when I walked up to look at where he was and jump down myself, I found him standing and grinning only feet away from the trucks.  
  
I snorted soundlessly and jumped down myself as quiet as I could, miming 'go' to him wit the sure knowledge that he could read my lips.  
  
He did as he was told, turning around to run towards a door, but keeping behind the truck or a packing case out of the drivers sight. He was moving fast, and with a certain agility I had never seen him use before. I could only note to myself that I had yet another piece to add to my puzzle of him - Duo the Thief. It was beginning to feel questionable whenever or not the puzzle would ever be finished, I mused when I followed him near enough to touch his braid if it had been swaying behind him instead of being tucked inside his shirt.  
  
He opened the door just before the truck stopped and the driver turned the motor off, but stayed by it and did a polite - mockingly polite - gesture for me to enter first. I shrugged and did as he wished.  
  
I looked around where I had entered and adjusted the knives strapped around my stomach under the tank top, feeling them through to assure myself that none was stuck in their sheaths. A side glance towards Duo told me that he was doing the same thing, feeling around on his body. I noted with interest some of the places where he felt, he hadn't let me see when he put away all the knives and stored the information away for later use.  
  
We were in a corridor, empty by the looks of it, but we slid into the shadows anyway and walked as soundless as possible. If the maps I had received from Dr. J were accurate, then we would currently be in the west sleeping quarters, but from the sound from one of the closed doors was at least one man and a woman doing something entirely different from sleeping. Duo stopped outside that door and wiggled his eyebrows to me, grinning like a maniac, mimicking some of the moans comically.  
  
I discovered that snorting soundlessly doesn't show too visibly in your face, because Duo didn't seem able to see it.  
  
We continued out way down to the computer base and finally found it, with an image of a computer, and the usual 'no-smoking' sign that was on all doors.  
  
I put my hand on the handle, but didn't have time to push it down, because someone did it for me.  
  
Immediately letting go of the handle, my hand flew towards nearest my knife and pulled it out, but before I had a chance to use it, something flew past me and a low groan became the last sound the soldier uttered.  
  
When the quick, and in this case useless, dose of adrenaline had calmed in my body, I looked up and saw Duo lean over the body of a woman, grimacing as he drew a knife out from her neck. He looked up at me forgetting to mime, as he mumbled a small "yuck".  
  
I found myself almost wishing that Wufei had been here to see Duo in this element - that would stop his doubting fast enough.  
  
A lot of my own doubting stopped in that moment too. Seeing Duo, unfazed, draw a bloody knife out of someone's body did that.  
  
The computer room was, to our luck, empty and without saying anything; we both grabbed one of the woman's foot each and pulled her into the room, closing and locking the door behind us.  
  
I took a good look at the woman's face before letting go. She had light blue eyes and shoulder long, light brown hair that looked darker than it actually was because of her pale, thin face with sharp features. A small drop of blood fell onto her cheek and I looked up to see Duo glance down onto the face the same way I did, knife hanging loosely above her head.  
  
He looked almost . . . apologetic.  
  
I let go of her foot to walk over to what I deemed the main computer, quickly forgetting everything about the woman's - soldier's face as I set to search for the information we had come to collect. Pulling out a small disk from a strap under my tank top, I then shrugged out of the leather- straps of the knapsack and handed the bag to Duo, who took it and began to set out the explosives.  
  
"We should have about five minutes before anyone reaches the place and realizes that they have an intruder." He mused aloud as he walked around in the room. "Do you think she was going for a shift-change?"  
  
It was no doubt who 'she' was. "No." I muttered and began to type.  
  
"Eh?" He stopped and looked at me, surprised. "How can you be so sure?"  
  
Password. I typed in a standard code for programmers, which is made to pass easy security. It didn't work. "She was assigned to stay the whole night. Why she even unlocked and opened the door, I can't answer."  
  
He whistled. "The whole night? Tough. She was the geek, wasn't she? The one to take care of the whole computer-centre?"  
  
I agreed quietly and set to type again, glad he didn't ask how I knew that. He had probably already figured out that I had read it somewhere in the information J sent me. He hadn't bothered to read all of it, since he knew I would do it anyway.  
  
Password. I glanced around in the room for clues, trying several ones such as 'amethyst' (for the stone in her blood splattered necklace), 'anneoleson' (her name), 'computertwosix' and then suddenly noticed how pale the soldier's skin and eyes were.  
  
A colonist? Then what was she doing with OZ? I shrugged at the story about her background I would probably never hear and quickly typed 'el-two' for L2.  
  
It worked.  
  
*******  
  
TBC  
  
*******  
  
I will write a side story about the woman later, because I want to show how people never revealed in the series can have a history anyway. Call me stupid, but hey, a lot must have been going on during that war and the pilots + Relena can't have been the only ones to do something, right?  
  
[1] Anyone ever found out what male-deodorant actually smells? It's no actual smell, but still sweet and fresh, just like Heero thought. And yes, I've done research - I've smelled on my brother's and cousins' and male- friends' deos to find out. -_- Why can't it be as simple as with women's perfumes? It's much easier to make out if it's fruit, flower etc. 


	9. Pawn A Side Story in Anne's POV

Umm - remember me? Maaya, the author of Rituals? Sorry for the long wait.  
  
I bought the American version of The Ring yesterday and I am . . . . a little disappointed. Though it was really good and I am completely scared shitless (the horse part was never in Ringu and it was *scary*) so is the Japanese version a hundred times better. What's up with the ending for example; (SPOILER WARNING) Rachel was pushed into the well by a moving TV?!  
  
*ahem*  
  
I'm sorry for the delay with this story. RL life has been very busy and school-work overwhelms me. , It's hard to get inspiration while knowing one has to learn hydrocarbons and structural formulas.  
  
***  
  
Pawn - A Rituals Side Story in an OC's POV by Maaya  
  
***  
  
Some people say I am a colonyshit - that someone like me shouldn't be in OZ at all. Some people accept me gladly with a slap on the back or (unfortunately) rump. It is almost disgusting to see how their confused minds are in conflict - how their beliefs and ideals can be warped up by madmen's plans in order to start a war.  
  
It is not the colonists that people are supposed to hate - it's the politicians.  
  
Sadly, it is too visible that I am a colonist. My pale skin and hair betrays me. I have no idea why the leaders of OZ let someone so obviously colonist into their organization - but I guess they were just desperate to get a computer specialist to care too much about my origins.  
  
But truth to be told so would this mission be much easier if everyone could be like the confused pigs that hate me at first sight, it would be so much easier if people could stop trying to become friends with me. I can't afford to feel pity, they are all my enemies and I would prefer if things could stay like that.  
  
It is quite possible I might have to kill someone from here one day - someone I have shared meals with and maybe talked to. People who've tried to make me laugh . . . people who've . . .  
  
Gods but I have to stop thinking like that.  
  
"Anne Oleson?"  
  
I stood up a little straighter. "Yes, sir?"  
  
The lieutenant came walking - sorry, bulking - towards me as if he was using the large stomach to get forwards. I'd never seen him before but can tell him off as a 'hater' immediately. There's a special glint of coldness in his eyes I recognize from so many others who have thrown taunts towards my back. It is people like him I both wish and don't wish the building was filled of.  
  
He stepped up only a foot or two away from me and eyed me closely for a couple of seconds. I could see the wheels in his head start working and spell out the letters C-O-L-O-N-I-S-T for him. I stared back at him until a drip of sweat fell into his eye and forced him to blink. It caused to make him snap out of the quiet mode.  
  
"You have guard-duty from nine to four tonight. Change of shifts."  
  
I knew this already, it was after all I, myself, who had made the changes in the program after all in order to get to be lonely in the computer room tonight. It was my mission to find the upgraded files and take them back to the headquarters. Well, and destroy the computer base too, of course. No one should ever find the files useful more than me and the gang.  
  
Snapping out of my thoughts, I made a slightly disappointed face so that the lieutenant would think I was disdainful. "Yes, sir."  
  
"Don't do that face. Accept your orders."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"Good." He stalked *ahem* bulked away to pester some other unfortunate subordinate. I pitied whoever the victim was going to be.  
  
"Man, he's got something of the size of China up his ass!"  
  
I didn't have to turn around to see who the owner of the new voice was. It was Dak. Dark-skinned, very . . . cheerful guy. One of those I wished wouldn't be as nice as he was.  
  
"No." I disagreed and shook my head. "But his head is sadly very empty and thinks with his dick instead - like all guys."  
  
"No offence to me, I hope!" He laughed out loud and gave my back a slap that would have served to make me fall forwards if I hadn't caught myself with a hand on the wall. Dak is like that. "Come on and let's get some food before the other pigs take it all."  
  
"Meaning you is a pig as well?" I wondered half-heartedly as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me towards the cafeteria.  
  
The annoying thing with Dak is that I tried to make him go away by insulting him. It was a tactical error on my part - I never knew guys got impressed with girls who had potty mouths. He began to respect and probably like me instead. Feh.  
  
"Do you enjoy making me suffer?" I asked sarcastically and pulled out of his grip to take a plate and load it with sticky rice and fish-stew. "You obviously like to pain me with your company."  
  
He shrugged and went off to fix use a place to sit.  
  
An 'evil' soldier is a man with a different belief . . . . and a gun. That is the reason to why I can never like Dak the way he likes me. He believes in the force of guns as much as he believes in OZ - and he doesn't realize what's wrong with that.  
  
Don't get me wrong - I like Dak, I really do - but he would never understand me the way I need him to understand me.  
  
OZ and the Federation killed my family and I will never forgive them for that. I know Dak likes me 'that' kind of way because . . . well . . . I'm not blind. I've seen the glances he throws my way, felt how his hands linger on my body when he touches me. I have no idea how he managed to fall flat on his bachelor stomach because of me.  
  
Now he was showing me to a table with, fortunately, two places free in the opposite directions of each other. We sat down and ate in silence for a while, which is strange. A silent Dak is just wrong, in the same way as a smirking Dak was dangerous.  
  
I looked at Dak to say something dry (and probably not so nice) to make him start talking, but the words got lost somewhere along the way to my tongue when I saw his face and eyes.  
  
They had turned from joking and cheerful to subdued and . . . nervous. But that was impossible - Dak was not one to be, act, or feel nervous. It is just not in his nature. So like already stated, my mouth snapped shut and I settled with waiting for him to venture what he was going to say on his own. Knowing Dak, it would probably not take very long.  
  
"Uhh . . . yeah . . . I was going to ask you - could you come to the cafeteria after your guard duty? I know it's going to be late and all, but . . . I need to talk to you."  
  
I think I sighed, if not aloud, then at least mentally. I was almost sure he wanted to confess his feelings to me and hoped I would be answering them. Poor naïve fool. Taking a deep breath, I prepared to tell him exactly what I felt, or rather, didn't feel.  
  
The loud sound of the alarm made my mouth snap shut once again. It was emergency training. Throwing Dak a helpless look, I stood up and went with the stream of soldiers going towards their own place to be.  
  
It was the last time I ever saw him.  
  
***  
  
The downloading-data-part of the mission would have been easy if I hadn't been so nervous. A lump in my throat prevented any deeper breathing and I didn't dare to swallow because of the risk to throw up. My fingers were sweaty when they typed the password, el-two, and logged in. I am the only one who knows the password I chose to honour my colony.  
  
I would maybe get killed this night. If any officer found me in my attempt to escape, I would most certainly be killed. Killed. Death. I was afraid of death.  
  
Even the fever-like trance my mind was in, so did the thought of Dak refused to leave me. I knew I would never be able to speak to him again and he would remember me as the woman he loved that was actually a spy. Oh God . . .  
  
The info was finally secured and saved on my disc. I took it out and deleted the files on the computer, before placing out the bombs.  
  
Nothing would be left of the computer room, even if I was caught or not.  
  
Still, Dak was on my mind when I unlocked the door and opened it.  
  
I saw a kid - shorter than me and with short, messy hair. He looked surprised; as surprised as I felt as he scrambled for something inside his green tank top.  
  
Then, a pain bloomed in my neck and throat. I couldn't breathe.  
  
***  
  
The End  
  
***  
  
I hate to kill Anne because I am rather fond of her but . . . she was doomed before I even began to write the side story, for obvious reason. 


	10. Part 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.  
  
Notes: Is anyone still reading this story? *cough* Hopefully, I'll be able to add chapters more often now that most of the major tests in school are done and over with.  
  
Short explanation due the happenings in this chapter: If you read the last side-story carefully enough, you'd realize this already, but my OC planted bombs in the computer lab. Now you'll get to see what was happening.  
  
I'm not good at writing 'action' scenes . . . =,= This part is short, but I came to a perfect place to end it. Hopefully, it won't take as long as before until another chapter is done.  
  
***  
  
Rituals - Part 8 by Maaya  
  
***  
  
'Search unsuccessful. File does not exist.'  
  
I stared-ahem-glared at the screen. Blinked once - twice. Resumed to glare again. The computer had worked, the password had worked, and so logically speaking, the file should be there somewhere. It was only before closing the search-window did I fruitlessly spell-check the filename and went to search through the folders manually, only to be frustratingly unsuccessful. In fact, it seemed as if someone had deleted *all* the files on the computer.  
  
"Jesus fucking *Christ*!"  
  
Duo took the words from my mouth before I had time to utter them myself. My head snapped around to stare at him. He pushed himself away from something by his hands on the wall in front of him, eyeing something behind a standard, metallic shelf with shock and disgust. A millisecond later had he thrown himself towards me and grabbed my arm to drag me after him.  
  
"What!?" I snapped irritably, just as something exploded from where Duo had been standing moments ago. The fiery explosion triggered others all around in the room and I went down to the floor in order to avoid falling from the waves of heat . . . among things. "Shit!"  
  
This would without doubt announce our presence in the base immediately.  
  
I couldn't see Duo anywhere and wasn't keen on opening my eyes more than necessary because of the heat. "Status?" I shouted but no answer came. Either had he not heard me (which was rather possible) or so was he unable to do so for any reason. (This was even more possible.)  
  
Deciding that searching for him in here wasn't an opinion for someone who didn't want to get grilled, I crawled towards where I thought the door was and hoped he was conscious to do the same thing.  
  
Suddenly, my hand came in contact with something . . . soft. Soft as in body soft. I would have cursed if I had time when I felt around on . . . it, but could realize with a sigh that it was just the woman's body. It had a horrifyingly missing presence of a head - I guessed it had been blasted away by the explosion. The thought was somewhat . . . unpleasant.  
  
I tried to shout for Duo again, but my throat filled with stinging smoke made me cough and suspect that something . . . unhealthy was burning to make the smoke taste like this. I hoped it was nothing chemical or dangerous - I couldn't recall if I had seen any containers or unidentified things in them when I entered.  
  
The fumes *were* very strong though - it burned like fire in my throat and my eyes had began to water when I finally found the door and grabbed the door handle, hoping that I still would have time to escape before soldiers, alarmed from the explosion, would arrive.  
  
The first thing that hit me was that the door was closed, meaning that Duo hadn't made it to the door yet. During a millisecond, questions flew through my mind, asking whether or not I should go back into the room to find Duo, doubt and hesitation filling me.  
  
Then pain came. Obviously, something had been burning near the door because the door handle was white-hot, making me let go of the handle before I could even open the door. I would have spitefully sworn if the smoke hadn't taken my voice at the moment. Instead, I made myself useful and kicked at the handle to make it open.  
  
I found myself out in the hallway again, coughing and blinking away stinging tears from my eyes, finding that I couldn't focus properly, and my mind felt hazy, as if I had been on drugs. This whole damn mission was a fluke; Duo was currently in a burning room, and OZ soldiers would soon find us. It's at moments like this you feel that all your efforts are completely useless. Waves of . . . something, something akin to melancholy threatened to overwhelm me, but I couldn't let them yet. I was still in action.  
  
My common sense told me that one gundam pilot is better than no gundam pilot, and I should get away, quick. But I didn't want to. What I wanted to do was to run into the computer lab again and fetch him, because I *knew* him. And he knew me.  
  
Suddenly, I heard what I had expected to come earlier, alarming footsteps coming my way. I snapped my head up fast enough to get dizzy and glared weakly at the three soldiers appearing around a corner. Three. Nothing more. Just three. Where were the others? They looked young too, were probably the unfortunate ones that were on guard this night, but damn, they couldn't be much older than me! Things were looking up for me, my mind told me, but my heart told me I wouldn't want to kill them.  
  
The one at the front aimed his standard military gun at me and shouted, "Stay where you are!"  
  
I looked at him and raised my hands slowly, muscles straining when I prepared myself to do something to get away. Whether I would attack them or just duck and cover wasn't yet completely decided.  
  
Duo suddenly stumbled out from the room, falling onto the floor with a thud.  
  
I used the soldiers surprise to my own profit. Even if I had forgotten the gun I kept tucked into the hold around my waist, my hands hadn't. Abruptly I held it fired in my hand; one of the young soldiers fell into a heap on the ground with a shout. The other two were too confused to react; it was no problem to hit them in their vain attempt to cover. Each screamed painfully as they met death, echoing in my ears. I hate to kill young people.  
  
Seeing no good by loosing time, I turned swiftly to the heap of grime and soot covered Duo. He was lying face down on the floor, and for a shocking second, I almost thought he had stopped breathing, at least until he raised himself up on his elbows slowly and coughed very, very weakly.  
  
I was by his side in an instant, leaning down over him. "Can you walk?" I wondered curtly.  
  
He raised his head slowly to look at me. I almost winced when I saw his eyes, and realized that he *wouldn't* get out of here without help. The pupils were too large and unfocused, looking slightly glassy. He opened his mouth but he only succeeded in coughing again. The way he breathed worried me slightly, it sounded . . . rusty and not very healthy.  
  
I managed to get him standing, and then we ran.  
  
I won't say it was easy to escape the base, but it wasn't nearly as hard at it was supposed to be. Confusion was the most apparent thing the soldiers were feeling, and I don't think many of them realized they had been infiltrated by gundam pilots. I pitied them, and wondered what their superiors were doing.  
  
We sneaked out using a small way out of a kitchen, and soon found ourselves stumbling down the dark backstreets where no one seemed to want to spend any night time.  
  
And it was merely after I sank down on the ground, leaned against a dirty brick wall with Duo's half-unconscious body in my arms, when I finally had time to ask myself what the hell had happened tonight.  
  
***  
  
TBC  
  
***  
  
Like I said, sorry for the shortness of this part. I hope the next one will become longer. 


	11. Part 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters. Get off my case already! Shoo!  
  
I'm seeing the end of this story. But if anyone is still interested and reading, I *will* write a sequel. Completely and totally honest. I have it a little outlined already, but I'll try and make it a longer one shot instead of a multipart that I take forever between updates. But knowing myself, it will probably not work. And I'll write more of Life Together before it'll be finished.  
  
Oh, yes. This series *will* be 1+2 if you are patient. This part of the arc will deal with how they get to know each other and become friends, but the sequel will deal with more romantic themes.  
  
NOTE: Someone asked me whose POV this story was in in the last part, so I'll tell you this once; this story will *always* be in Heero's POV, unless it is a side-story. Btw, whatever possessed me to write this in Heero's POV in the first place? I mean, Heero is not very social, and I love to write dialogues.  
  
As for Anon - I apologize if I offended you. Even though I cannot promise this won't happen again, I will at least know to put up appropriate warnings. *pulls out hair in frustration* So much to remember, so much to consider . . . .  
  
***  
  
Rituals - Part 9 by Maaya  
  
***  
  
Darkness. That was the first thing I became aware of when I woke up. The second thing that came to mind was that I had woken up at all, which only meant I had been asleep in the first place. But as it was still dark outside, it wouldn't matter much anyway, more than that Wufei maybe would worry if we didn't arrive to the motel soon.  
  
My head hurt, though the dizziness was mercifully gone and my eyes didn't pain me as much anymore. Only a light soreness in my throat remained.  
  
Duo, still cradled in my arms, was obviously asleep and warm enough to tell me he was still alive. Otherwise, his still rusty breathing would have betrayed him. I shifted slightly and hoped he would wake up soon, or I would have to do it for him. We should get out of here as soon as possible; the chances were that the soldiers on that base had finally realized that they had been attacked by gundam pilots and would be out searching for us now. But we were hidden for the moment - I couldn't hear anything around us more than the occasional car at a distance. That was however only normal. In fact, I would have been a lot more worried if those sounds hadn't been there at all - that could have meant that OZ had told the media something and exhorted people to stay inside - away from the 'dangerous felons'.  
  
I have no idea how long we had stayed in the alley, however, my back was beginning to give in to a dull ache and my leg was going numb after having Duo rest over it. I shifted him again until his back rested against my chest and his legs were sprawled out between mine. I sat up straighter against the wall to ease the pain in my back and squared my shoulders. They were stiff.  
  
It felt . . . . warm. I couldn't recall ever being this close to another human being before and it felt nice - warm. Was that because it was Duo I was being close to or a just person in general? I tried imagining Wufei, Trowa or Quatre with me in the same position as Duo in my arms, but somehow I couldn't.  
  
We should probably go. The sooner we arrived to the motel, the better. But no one was around yet, and we weren't in danger at the time being, so why not stay for just another moment? Duo was still asleep, and I needed time to think - to sort out my thoughts.  
  
The mission. It puzzled me. There hadn't been any information to get, even though the doctors had been specific about how, where and what we were supposed to get. And the explosion - what had that been? The smoke had been stinging, too stinging, and made me feel dizzier than it should have. We hadn't bought any biologically damaging bombs, I was sure. And Duo had been surprised. I hoped he hadn't done any mistakes - it would be hard to explain to Dr. J and the rest if that was so. But I would have to wait for Duo's side of the story before jumping to conclusions.  
  
Well, we should get going before the sun would rise.  
  
I sat up straighter and shook Duo by his shoulders. "Duo . . . wake up." I was surprised at how raspy my voice sounded.  
  
He stirred and slowly started moving, stretching a little in the progress. Then he stiffened and fell back against my chest again, surprising me.  
  
"Duo?" I shook his shoulders lightly in confusion. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Ouch . . ."  
  
His voice was barely audible, thick and raspy, and quiet as well. But he'd probably inhaled more of that smoke than I, so it didn't surprise me. He'd just have to not talk as much. But now I needed to know what was wrong. "Are you hurt?"  
  
He jumped and seemed to realize that his back-rest was actually me, because he began to move again, whispering, "My knee is just a little stiff. And-" He coughed weakly. "-my throat is a bitch."  
  
I think he was going to say something more, but his voice faltered unattractively at the last word. But it was clear what he was going to say anyway, because half of his face was covered in burns; even some of the bangs framing his cheeks were black and sooty.  
  
I began to stand up and let his back rest against the brick wall, as I instead perched down in front of him, examining his knee with my hands until his breathing got louder with held back groans of pain.  
  
"It is not more damaged than before." I could finally decide. "It is only strained and stiff. You should be able to walk." I stood up and held out a hand for him to help him stand.  
  
He rolled his eyes, a sign that proved he wasn't too bad off since he still had his sarcasm safe and sound, and accepted my offer of help. "You're not a very compassionate person, are you?" He rasped when he got to his feet.  
  
"You should probably not speak." I positioned one of his arms around my neck, and he moved the other one to rub at his eyes. "Your throat is probably damaged."  
  
"No kidding, eh?" Was his comment, but he kept quiet after that.  
  
I started moving towards the street, but something came to mind, and I began to rub my face with my sleeve. It came back was black. Damn. A quick look confirmed that Duo's condition was as dirty as I felt. I began to rub my face again. He just looked at me with wide eyes before doing the same thing to himself, removing as much as soot as possible without touching the burns, until I told him, "That will be enough - it's too dark to notice anything more."  
  
He just shrugged as if agreeing. It hit me how . . . absurd it was I was the most talkative among the two of us right now. It felt wrong.  
  
We began moving again, and were soon walking down the street, looking for a sign that told us where we were. If we could just find the name of the street, I'd hopefully be able to find the way to the motel. We avoided the streetlamps the best we could and finally spotted a small sign labelled 'West Street'.  
  
It was a little more trouble to find the motel than we had planned at first, because the map over town Duo had bought was probably only a pile of ash along with the knapsack he hadn't been able to bring out of the room after the explosion.  
  
Our walk wasn't pleasant, but not many people were up and about yet so we didn't have to worry about hiding much. It took a while, but we found the motel at last, announcing its silly name with a white neon sign.  
  
I moved to the side of the motel and pulled Duo with me. "You have to walk in there by your own power. It'll look suspicious otherwise."  
  
His jaw clenched, but he nodded and withdrew his arm from my shoulders, taking a wary step towards the door. I studied him carefully for a moment, but he didn't falter in his steps, so I caught up with him and we entered the building together.  
  
The motel was one of those that were open for anyone to arrive anytime, something that really fit to our need tonight. It wasn't the most well-kept or luxurious, with sordid grey walls that could, once upon a time, have been white. A girl sat behind a desk, looking positively bored, chewing on a gum she sometimes blew into a bubble that burs and went into her mouth again. She wore too much cheap make-up and had a pair of old-fashioned headphones over her ears. She looked up when she saw us enter and walk towards her, taking in our, for her, strangely ruffled state of clothes and body. And, of course, the not so nice burn-injury on Duo's face.  
  
"What?" She asked, bored.  
  
"Which room is Wufei Chang's?" I asked her curtly, keeping my voice as clear as I could, but it sounded a little rusty anyway.  
  
She looked vaguely interested and stopped chewing for a moment. "Why - he's in trouble?"  
  
"He's expecting us."  
  
"Well, it's none of my business anyway." Her expression betrayed that she was still curious, though. "Chinese huh? I was the one who gave him the key. Gorgeous body, eh?"  
  
Duo snickered quietly, the shaking of his body betraying it more than the almost non-existent sound.  
  
". . . now let's see . . ." She looked down at a paper in a binder, searching for the name with a finger. "Room twenty-two, second floor."  
  
"Thanks." I tugged at Duo's arm to get him moving and went towards the elevator, hoping that the girl wouldn't think we were strange for taking the elevator to only the second floor. For once lucky, we found that it was on this floor, and also empty. It was as dirty as expected, and reeked unpleasantly of something suspiciously reminding me of urine. We were both past the stage to care anyway. Duo slumped against the mirror covering one wall tiredly, turning his head to examine his face. He grimaced very, very carefully at the sight of the burns.  
  
We eventually found room twenty-two, and I knocked five times quickly, like we had agreed with Wufei before we left on this hellish mission in the first place. It was just precaution.  
  
The door flew open almost immediately, revealing an irate, tired-looking Wufei in the doorway. "What took you so long!?" He snapped.  
  
***  
  
TBC  
  
***  
  
Okay, so the part wasn't all *that* much longer than before, but at least it was updated a lot faster. Like the last time, it was a nice place to leave it. 


	12. Part 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.  
  
In the sequel to this, I seriously need to find a better plot than this one. I have a setting, but not really a plot. =,=;; Well, to be honest, there's no plot here either, just settings. Oh well . . .  
  
But to be honest, life usually is all settings and no plots, right? *cough*  
  
***  
  
Rituals - Part 10 by Maaya  
  
***  
  
The door flew open almost immediately, revealing an irate, tired-looking Wufei in the doorway. "What took you so long!?" He snapped.  
  
I gave him a flat look and watched as he slowly took in our very . . . non- standard state of clothes and dirty skin. His face fell just a very little bit, enough to make him unusually expressive, but not really enough to be too visible, when he noticed the nasty burns in Duo's face. He stepped aside to allow us to enter.  
  
"I take it the mission didn't go very well." He stated, not needing to make it a question since the answer was already obvious. But I answered anyway.  
  
"You're right."  
  
I disliked - no - *hated* to admit it. Maybe I cared more than I had first believed about what the others thought of me, because I didn't want to appear weak, least of all in Wufei's mind.  
  
Curtly, I scanned through what would be our temporary place of residence until Duo would be well enough to move by his own power without any assistance from me.  
  
It wasn't luxury - that was clear. Moisture had damaged parts of the ceiling and there were spots coloured sickly yellow with water.[1] At least it didn't appear as if liquid was *dropping* from above, which was always a benefit. The only grit covering the floor was plain dirt. There were two beds, a couch, a ratty television, a table and a door hopefully leading to a bathroom. Judging from what I had seen of the main room, I couldn't help not being very keen on seeing the bathroom.  
  
Duo still had an arm around my shoulders and I now lowered him down carefully to rest on the couch. Then I turned to Wufei.  
  
"Do you have first aid supplies?"  
  
He looked a little surprised, but I'm not sure if it was because of the question, or the . . . *snapping* tone I had used. "Yes, but nothing that could treat burns very well . . ."  
  
I wondered what explanation he had come up with in his mind to why Duo had been limping, but didn't ask. "His knee is worse." I told him instead.  
  
"Knee?"  
  
It suddenly hit me that Wufei didn't know a thing about how Duo had hurt his knee during our first fight together before arriving to the safe-house. The memory of how I had wrapped Duo's knee in that bathroom in the middle of a night came to me all of a sudden, surprising me by actually being a *good* memory. It was one of the few good ones I could recall, if not the first.  
  
"He . . . hurt his knee during the mission." I muttered, unsure of whether or not Duo wanted me to tell Wufei about it. He had, after all, sneaked out in the bathroom in the middle of the night to wrap it alone. He had to have a reason for doing that.  
  
He gave me a look. "You're an awful liar, Yuy."  
  
"It's not a lie." I replied truthfully, not sure what it was that made him interested in Duo's knee. It was just a knee after all, and not in a very good shape.  
  
"Broken?" He asked.  
  
"No, only sprained and swollen. The running from the base didn't help much."  
  
But Wufei had already turned to where Duo was resting on the couch. "What's the matter with you Maxwell, why have you been so quiet?"  
  
Duo surprised me by mouthing soundlessly, and a little slowly, the words: 'Miss my voice?'  
  
I can read lips, and obviously he guessed or knew that.  
  
"He has inhaled too much smoke from a biological bomb with . . . *something* in it." I elucidated before Wufei would retort something annoyed that would make them want to argue. I didn't want to know what would happen in a dispute between them when Duo had lost an important weapon; his voice.  
  
My words caused Wufei to stop and think. "Bomb? Don't tell me you got hurt by your own bombs?" He frowned, irritated, as if he had already heard a positive answer. "Idiots."  
  
It was mine and Duo's turns to frown, at him. Duo shook his head wildly and I read his lips, moving faster now that he was sure I could read them perfectly.  
  
'Was not our bombs, found one already planted.'  
  
"Why would someone plant a bomb in a military base on earth?" Snapped Wufei, and I learnt that our Chinese partner could read lips as well as I.  
  
But Duo just shrugged and frowned a little more, mindful of the burns that seemed to hurt each time he moved the skin and lack of thereof on his face.  
  
I suddenly remembered the question I had asked Wufei earlier about the first aid kit and repeated it.  
  
With a "just a moment" reply, he disappeared into the bathroom for a couple of seconds and emerged with the standard white metal box with a red cross on the lid.  
  
We went to field wrap Duo's knee and I was glad to see it hadn't swollen anymore than the last time I had checked. That done and over with, we went to examine his throat with some pokes and prodding and a torch. But neither Wufei nor I were experts concerning throats and how they should look as impeccable so there wasn't much use in the examination. We could only see that weren't any major blisters or anything so we left it like that for the time being.  
  
And finally, Duo brushed away his bangs from his face to reveal the whole burn damage.  
  
The 'main part' of it was on one of his cheeks and parts of his forehead which looked . . . ugly. Not necessarily deep or even very serious but unpleasant for ones eyes to look at. 'Dead' skin was beginning to fall off by itself and I couldn't tell if it was a good thing or not. The only thing we could do was to clean his face and the burns the best we could and put on large anti-bacterial band-aids, hoping it wouldn't scar too badly.  
  
I'm not sure how long it took us, but when we were done, Duo surprised me by mouthing, 'what about you?'  
  
He was a little red in his face, embarrassed by all the attention we had spent on him. Either the silent question was spoken out of concern for my wellbeing, or just plain sadism as he wanted to see me squirm when they poked and prodded *me*.  
  
I shrugged. "I'm okay."  
  
He gave me a look that clearly said - no - demanded 'evaluate'.  
  
*I* gave him a look that said 'would I lie?'  
  
I'm not sure what it was in that reply that convinced him I really was okay, but he seemed to accept it. Rolling his eyes, he shrugged and stood up, mouthing a quick 'I'm going to bed' and went into the bathroom, probably to clean himself up a little more, and empty his bladder.  
  
The bathroom door closed behind him, and the lock rattled a little until it became apparent it wasn't going to work. Did anything in this place work? A perverse urge insisted on trying to turn on the television, but I resisted.  
  
A hawking from Wufei made me look up and become aware of his eyes on me. He had one eyebrow raised in a questioning curve. "What was that?"  
  
"What was what?"  
  
"You conversed-" He looked irritated and tired, just as he had when he had opened the door for us the first time. When was the last time he had slept? He was probably as tired as Duo and I. "-without saying a damn word."  
  
I blinked at him, thought about it, and realized he was right. Opened my mouth, thought a little more, and closed it again when I couldn't come up with a descent answer. Great - now I had probably ended up looking like a fish stranded on a beach too. After a while, I ended up changing the subject altogether. It felt bizarrely embarrassed.  
  
"I'm going to bed too."  
  
"Wait a second."  
  
"What?" I stopped on my way to one of the beds, irritation invading my tired psyche.  
  
He frowned and demanded. "Tell me what is going on here! What exactly happened on that mission?"  
  
"I tell you tomorrow. Or-" I added on an afterthought, realizing it already was 'tomorrow'. "- Later tonight."  
  
"One more thing."  
  
"*What?*"  
  
"We'll have to toss a coin about who'll get the bed."  
  
I lost.  
  
***  
  
TBC  
  
***  
  
[1] Anyone else here thinking 'Dark Water'? It's a damn good movie. But I am a biased horror movie freak, and Japanese horror happens to be the best. *worships Ringu and Dark Water and The Eye, etc . . . * 


	13. Part 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.  
  
Thank you so much for the feedback you've sent me so far. I love you all!  
  
As already stated, this story screws the timeline. In further stories in my little 'arc', I might catch up on it again, especially in the final stories.  
  
***  
  
Rituals - Part 11 by Maaya  
  
***  
  
When I woke up, it was because of the soft smattering of keys from a computer keyboard. After a little while of blinking, I sat up on the couch and located Wufei, who sat on the edge of his bed, laptop perched on his knees. A cord went from the computer to a wall socket that looked the worst for wear.  
  
Duo was still asleep, curled into the usual ball-like form underneath his pillows, and a hasty look at my watch told me I hadn't been asleep for very long. I thought about trying to go back to sleep again, but decided against it; I felt too awake despite the short period of sleep. But then, I had slept a little in the alley too, although I now doubted it had been more than fifteen minutes. However, I would probably not be able to sleep even if I tried.  
  
"What are you doing?" I asked Wufei instead. He didn't jump, so I guessed he had been aware of that I was awake.  
  
He didn't avert his eyes from the screen. "I sent an email to Winner and Barton to tell them I had completed the mission. They haven't answered yet."  
  
"When did you send the mail?"  
  
"Before you arrived."  
  
I could see a small frown between his eyes, but if it was from frustration or worry I do not know. Probably a little bit of both. "Do you think they have evacuated the safe-house?" What I meant was 'do you think something have happened to make them unable to answer?'  
  
"There's no way of knowing."  
  
I didn't answer orally to that, but quietly instead, in the form of a nod.  
  
We sat like that in silence for a while before Wufei spoke up again, curious. "What happened on the mission?"  
  
His question didn't surprise me. In fact, I had expected it, but was yet not certain what to answer. So I just told him what I knew, starting with how we got into the base and stopping after briefly describing how we had escaped the chaos that followed.  
  
When I was done, Wufei's frown had deepened. "So judging from what Maxwell was indicating, he was not the one who planted the biological bomb that went off."  
  
"I don't think we even brought any biological bombs," I stated, hating the 'I think' in the sentence. 'I think' was not a fact, only an assessment. And facts were what we needed the most right now.  
  
He shifted the laptop a little and a hand rose to rub at his forehead in a still tired gesture. "The only one who could possibly have had the time to plant the bomb is the female soldier you killed. The one from L2."  
  
"She was a spy." It dawned upon me. "Or a traitor." Now when I thought about - had time to think about it, I felt angry at how I hadn't realized it earlier. "The information I needed wasn't on the computer. She must have erased it and planted the bombs."  
  
He sat and glared at the screen for a while, obviously deep in thoughts, before starting to type again.  
  
"What are you doing?" I had to ask, standing up and walking over to the bed. For some reason, I couldn't help but feel it would be awkward to sit down beside him near enough to see what he was doing, so I just stood in front of him uncertainly before deciding to walk around the bed and sit down behind him instead. It felt stupid, but better.  
  
He moved a little to the side to give me a better view of the screen. "Writing to Master O. We can't do anything about the failed mission or bring back the woman who was killed. But the biological bomb could have contained *anything*."  
  
I could see where he was going with this. With anything, he meant that it could be everything from itching powder to dangerous poison killing me and Duo slowly from inside. "So you are asking him for a doctor." I finished for him. He nodded.  
  
"Normal doctors will ask questions. Master O has probably some kind of contact that . . ."  
  
A little beeping sound was heard, and a sign read 'one new message' in the lower right corner. Without completing his sentence, Wufei moved his fingers on the touching pad to click on the sign.  
  
The message *was* from O. Wufei moved a little more to indicate for me that I was allowed to read too, and I did. It was short and contained positive information, though if you read between the lines, you could trace the hints of disapproval that we needed a doctor in the first place. He knew of one who was close to this area and who also had field-experience. Trustworthy, he said, someone who we could hopefully take great benefit from in the future.  
  
Further, he asked about our location and such, so he could send it to his contacted doctor. Wufei answered with a short mail where he included the name of the motel and also the room number. I approved of that; it would have seemed suspicious if someone else came asking about our room without knowing any specifications. I suspected that the girl was someone who liked to gossip and tittle-tattle.  
  
When he had done that, I stood up to move over to the bathroom - I hadn't showered since before the mission, only washed my hands and face in the basin - and was feeling sweaty and uncomfortably sordid. In the doorway, I suddenly remembered something and turned back to face Wufei again.  
  
"Don't tell Duo the woman was from L2, or that she was -" I stopped myself before I said 'on our side' as we didn't know for sure. Instead, I continued with something else. "- against OZ."  
  
He looked at me with a certain . . . *sizing*, narrowed glare that I had already seen him give many times duing the short time I had knew him. I think he hesitated a little before saying, "Fine, I won't", but couldn't be too sure. Then he turned to stare at the laptop screen again, and I closed the bathroom door behind me.  
  
***  
  
Duo was bored. I could see it clearly. He had woken up, realized his throat was still very sore and his voice very weak, that half his face was covered in large anti-bacterial band-aids, and that his knee was stiff and in pain. He hadn't expressed any of this orally, but the frown between his eyes and grim, clenched jaw spoke for itself.  
  
I watched him sit in his bed and stare at the local news on the television (that worked, by the way). OZ hadn't announced anything about the base; they were probably trying to hide it.  
  
After my shower; I had remembered that our backpacks, in which we had stored a change of clothes and food along with the explosives, were back in the base - in form of ash. So I had been forced to dress in my sweaty and dirty clothes again and my clean state of body made me realize just *how* sweaty and dirty they were.  
  
So Duo was bored and, though I didn't like to admit it, so was I. The worst thing about this war is the wait. I'd imagine that the worst thing about any war is the wait, because it makes you think, get nervous, and worst of all; question things. Question what you are fighting for, question oneself, question faith . . . everything.  
  
At least, that's what Dr. J told me. He taught me how to control myself, but I never really understood just how frustrating it can be to sit in a room without anything to do and wait for the next mission, the next risk for death and failure. It's that kind of frustration that can be as dangerous as the battles and missions themselves, because it drives you crazy. The only enemy is yourself and if you have doubts . . . it can tear you apart.  
  
But I didn't think it was doubt or even fear I could see in Duo's face, only the plain frustration I felt myself. He was chewing on his lower lip and staring at the TV-screen in forced concentration.  
  
I welcomed the knock on the door when it came, even though it could mean enemies were coming as well as it could be friends.  
  
We waited in hesitation, looking at each other, until a second knock came, and a third, slightly faster one, and I recognized the code that Master O had sent us. He hadn't been able to send us a name or a description of the doctor, because it was too dangerous if the message had been found by someone else. The code was a slight safe-word, better than nothing. But not certain if OZ had read the message.  
  
I picked up the gun from the table and walked quietly towards the door. I hesitated with my hand on the handle for a second before grabbing it and flinging the door open, aiming the gun towards whoever would be standing outside.  
  
There was a soft, not too surprised intake of air from the person, and I found myself standing with the gun aimed against a woman's face. She was taller than me, probably older too, and she had honey-blonde hair in two plaits that reached her shoulders on either side of her face. A pair of grey-ish blue eyes was looking steadily at the gun, before slowly averting and taking in me instead. She smiled slightly. "Heero Yuy, right? I think you've already been told who I am. Can I come in?"  
  
She didn't seem affected by my glare, just smiled that little half-smile and waited for me to take the gun away from the aiming point between her eyes.  
  
Slowly, I lowered the gun and stepped aside to allow her to enter. She did so, and I saw she carried a handy, not too small or too big, black duffel bag in her hand.  
  
"Name?" Wufei questioned from behind me.  
  
The woman didn't answer immediately; first she looked around in the room calmly, studied each one of us, and then sighed. I wasn't sure why. "Sally Po," she said. "What's the situation?"  
  
I ignored her question and asked one of my own. "Who sent you?" We used code-names in the mails. If she knew O's 'real' name, then we would have to trust her to be clean.  
  
"Master O."  
  
I tucked the gun into the waist band of my pants (a not too comfortable position) and nodded to Duo, who had been sitting on his bed, studying the whole scene with interest and some irritation, probably from not being able to participate or give his opinion. When she gave him her attention, he grinned and waved a little in a parody of being flirty. I snorted quietly.  
  
She raised an eyebrow at the band-aids covering his face. "What's the problem? More than the damage in his face?"  
  
"Biological bomb." Wufei said. He had taken his laptop out again and was typing frantically. My laptop was at the safe-house and I felt a slight wave of longing. Dr. J had trained me in resistance against drugs and becoming addicted to them, but never against computer addiction. That laptop was the only thing I always needed to take with me for missions, but could use for other things as well. Not that I had had a lot of time to do so lately. "We don't know what was in it. Damage is done to his throat as well. Yuy, we have a contact with Quatre."  
  
The last words were directed to me and I walked over to him after giving Po a glare.  
  
She raised her hand as if to protect herself, the gesture mocking me. "I do not hear anything of what's being said in this room." And with that, she walked over to the bathroom. I heard the sound of water as she rinsed her hands off.  
  
Quatre's face was on the screen and judging from the background so was he in his gundam. He looked quite stressed. "Report." He said firmly.  
  
I didn't have time to mull over the fact that he seemed much older and much more experienced now than he had appeared back at the safe-house. Eyes narrowed, wet bangs brushed back, made him look like . . . someone who knew his things. And well, he probably did. At least, I hoped so.  
  
"Everyone's alive. 02 hurt. Mission-" I hated the continuation. "- failure."  
  
Wufei's voice follower after mine. "Mission accomplished. You?"  
  
He smiled and leaned back in the pilot's seat. "Everything's fine. The phone lines failed to work and I had to go to the gundams to contact you. I ran." He offered as an explanation to his wet state of clothes and hair. "And it was raining. You said Duo was hurt?"  
  
I cast a look towards where Po was looking down Duo's throat. "He's alive. We have a doctor examining him right now."  
  
"Is the doctor all right?"  
  
"Recommended from Master O."  
  
"Good. Take care. 04 out." He leaned forwards and closed the connection.  
  
Meanwhile, Sally seemed to have finished examining Duo's throat and had begun to peel off the band-aids in his face. "Strong breathing mints are to recommend. It'd lessen the pain a little," she said. "You'll get your voice back after a couple of days. Don't strain it."  
  
He gave her a nonchalant half-shrug and a disapproving frown that didn't express anything very well because his skin was pulled back when she peeled away the band-aids.  
  
She continued, realizing that she had mine and Wufei's attention too. "Whatever was in that biological bomb, I can't see any signs that would prove to be threatening anymore. It was probably made to infect mucous membranes, but you were apparently not too close to it."  
  
Duo and I both snorted soundlessly in unison.  
  
Po continued to examine him, face and then knee before she could give us any positive news; the burns wouldn't scar and the knee wasn't worse than we had first thought. Then she left, and we were alone again, with only our thoughts and each other as company.  
  
***  
  
TBC  
  
***  
  
Okay, so not much is going to happen in these final chapters. I'm sorry about that, but hey, I'm the author so I have first dibs on deciding things, okay? *attempting to look authoritative*  
  
. . . but honestly so do I not really like this chapter . . . ^_^;;  
  
Next: A side story in Sally's POV. (I hope not *everyone* dislikes that but . . . I happen to like Sally a lot and wanted to write something in her POV for once. Besides, I thought it would be interesting to see how she viewed the gw-boys.) 


	14. Strong A Side Story in Sally's POV

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters. The song quote in the beginning is sung by Sheryl Crow. I like that song – it is worth downloading. ^_^  
  
Notes: Like already stated, this screws the timeline sideways. Yadda, yadda, yadda.  
  
I'm experimenting with this side story. It's Sally who tells you about what happened. This is probably because I've listened to one too many lectures/talks lately about several people's experiences in the Second World War. I'd say it makes me want to write something in past tense/story telling style.  
  
***  
  
Strong – A Rituals Side Story in Sally's POV by Maaya  
  
***  
  
//Nothing's true and nothing's right  
  
So let me be alone tonight  
  
- Strong Enough, Sheryl Crow//  
  
In the motel room I rented, there was a relatively well-kept couch with an ugly tiger-striped pattern. Of course, there were many other things in the room, a bed, a chair, a table and a TV, but it was this sofa that caught your eyes first when you entered. So it was usually onto it you sat down. And honestly, the godforsaken hideous thing was also the most comfortable object in the room and I had after one night in the bed resorted to sleep on it instead of tossing and turning trying to avoid hard bumps. Sure, I should probably have complained about the bed, but I didn't have the energy to do that. It was unsurprisingly onto the couch I flopped down, leaned back and let out a deep, from-the-heart sigh that just about explained all my emotions for the past week and, in particular, this special day. It felt as if I had just given up useless fighting and was right now hiding in a shitty motel in a shitty town, trying to get a grip of what I really believed. How do you find a certain word for that feeling? Hopelessness? Weariness? Old? I'm neither an author, nor a poet though, and while I might have a strong point for charisma, I don't usually try to think of synonyms.  
  
So, yes, here I was. I should have stayed away from anything military, mother; I admit you were right. Staying here, in this town, was both a good decision and a bad. It was calm and nothing ever seemed to happen, but it was poor and far away from reality too. But it was here I would have to remain until I could sort out the messes – in my head as well as economical situation. And, well, try and find a job. I'm glad I have the education I do; in these times it would probably not be hard to find a hospital somewhere that needed employees.  
  
Though now, I wasn't sure what I should do anymore. Why did I have to run into Master O, of all people? Because that was how he introduced himself to me, in a bar slash restaurant a late evening prior. We talked for a while and he got me to tell him more than I really ought to. Afterwards, he told me about the gundams and gave me an offer. He suggested that I should join the rebels and the gundams.  
  
I asked him to tell me more.  
  
It wasn't as if I said I would join them – but I didn't really want to turn him down. The plans of starting to work at a hospital felt so very...not useless I guess, but a little as if I wouldn't do what I wanted. I wished to do something that could help this crazy world of ours, and if I was going to do that, I wanted to hear all the options.  
  
The gundams' purpose sounded...honourable, at least. But it might just be a cover, or something more to it. Master O told me to go home and think about it, and I did.  
  
The next day, I got a call from him.  
  
He asked for my assistance as a doctor. A gundam pilot, he said, someone who needed medical attendance. I asked why he called me, of all people, but he just told me he trusted me to do a good job, and hung up. I was left with a fresh address in memory and uncertainty in mind.  
  
Though in the end, I decided to take on the job. As much as I hated that the man seemed to understand and know what I would decide from the beginning, a human is a human and doesn't really deserve to die. And who knew, maybe it would be good for me to meet a gundam pilot. God knew I didn't have anyone to betray them to anymore. Not that I would have anyway, but that's beside the point.  
  
I arrived to the pilots' hiding place, the motel, as soon as I could with only bus as means of transport. By then, I was avoiding swallowing just in case my nervousness would upset my stomach more than it already had, and entered the building with a hard grip onto my bag with doctors' supplies. A girl sat behind the counter, looking bored and blowing a big bubble out of the whitened gum with expertise. As I entered, she raised her head, but looked down again when she noticed I walked past her. I did have the room's number after all. Another surge of nervousness made me take the stairs instead of elevator, just to make the trip take longer. It was not like me to feel like that, but maybe the last few days' tension and confusion took the worse out of me.  
  
I knocked the code at the door, waited for a couple of seconds, then blinked at the barrel of a gun pointed at my face.  
  
My first thought was, 'it's a trap!' until I remembered there was no reason to put out a trap for mere little me. So I bit my lower lip roughly and glared at the gun, following it down and along the arm, until my eyes were met by a face.  
  
A face of a boy.  
  
He was fifteen, maybe sixteen, and glared at me with a pair of the most...brutal might not be the right word...wildest maybe, eyes I have ever seen. It was those kinds of eyes that made something inside your stomach tremble but also realize that showing fear would be fatal.  
  
Still feeling somewhat jittery inside, I smiled, hoping it reached my eyes at least a little. "Heero Yuy, right? I think you've already been told who I am. Can I come in?"  
  
He lowered his gun slowly and allowed me to enter. I did so, taking in the other two occupants in the room. They were also teenagers, kids. Was I supposed to be surprised anymore? This was what had forced kids to enter the fight. Something inside felt broken at the thought.  
  
A boy of visibly Chinese origins sat on a bed in the room, open laptop in front of him, though his gaze was fastened on me, not the screen, and his eyes weren't those of a boy. He sized me up critically, before asking shortly, "Name?"  
  
"Sally Po." I replied, wishing that the boy wouldn't look so much like my little brother at home. "What's the situation?"  
  
Somewhere along the line, my nervousness had disappeared and I slipped into the professional mode I used when I had business to take care of.  
  
"Who sent you?"  
  
I didn't bat an eye. So they weren't going to trust just anybody. "Master O."  
  
They both fell silent, and I turned my head slightly to study the third boy in the room. He was sitting down, and seemed to have hurt his leg somehow. But what first caught my eye, despite a long braid of brown hair, was the many band-aids on his face. But even though he must have been in some pain, he still grinned and winked in a silly manner. Well. He was a strange one. "What's the problem? More than the damage in his face?"  
  
"Biological bomb." Was the reply I was given, before the Chinese guy began to type on his computer again. "We don't know what was in it. Damage is done to his throat as well. Yuy, we have a contact with Quatre."  
  
Heero Yuy gave me a very intimidating glare before walking over to join his companion. Master O gave me his name...Chang, was it? And the last one had to be Maxwell then.  
  
"I do not hear anything of what's being said in this room." I submitted shortly, and walked over to where I guessed the bathroom was, and washed my hands.  
  
Well, I guess that is pretty much it. I examined Maxwell, made a diagnosis and decided I couldn't see any fatal problems.  
  
But at least I got to meet those guys myself. Now I know the options and hopefully some facts. I hope that will help me out now, when I try to sort out this mess of beliefs.  
  
***  
  
End of Strong  
  
***  
  
Hmm...let's see...this is short, very late and rather not good. But it is something, I guess. And if you've read this far, I guess you are used to it by now. Though I still love you for reading!  
  
I think I deserve brownie points for having written this on a shitty keyboard where I have to push on the shift-key several times before it works. 


	15. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of its characters.  
  
Notes: It took me this long to get out an epilogue. I'm so embarrassed. Before you kill me, though, yelling that this ain't no 1x2, remember that there'll be a sequel (someday). As for anyone interested in my story Life Together, it'll be my big summer project to get that story started again. (Starting sometime in June)  
  
Warning: Very, *very* random.  
  
***  
  
Rituals – Epilogue by Maaya  
  
***  
  
It took three days until Duo managed to get sounds past his throat. I won't say speak, because one could not describe the managed croaks as actual words, but there where sounds nonetheless and he didn't seem to think it hurt *too* much to utter them. The words were understandable the day after that, and on the fifth day, he could speak relatively well. Not for too long at the same time, but enough to manage a descent conversation.  
  
After those three days of silence (the relationship between Wufei and me was...slightly comfortable at best since neither of us was a talker, but rather listeners), it was welcome.  
  
I had not until now figured what a...restless person I am. I had, perhaps, never been restless quite like this before. There was nothing to do in the motel room; I didn't have a computer, obviously not Wing to work on, no mission to plan – absolutely nothing. Wufei had *his* laptop, of course, but what did that help me? After having spent two days staring at a television screen, I felt proof that I was going crazy.  
  
And by just looking at Duo's face, I could tell that he was too.  
  
He slid down from a former sitting position on the couch, currently with more of his back against the seat than the backrest, glaring at the TV with something that could only be described as venom. In his hands was his braid which should look torn by now because of his constant fiddling.  
  
"I can't take this anymore," he groaned suddenly in a voice that only slightly resembled his old, real one. I blinked at the fact that I had been staring at him, something I hadn't realized until I hadn't been forced to turn my gaze to look at him when he spoke. He hadn't seen it though, because only now he turned to look at me. "Heero."  
  
I looked at him questioningly. "What?"  
  
"Nothing. Just testing if it hurt to say it."  
  
It took me a few seconds to realize he meant the damage in his throat, but I think I caught on quickly enough. "Aa." Then I wondered, "Did it?"  
  
"Nope." He grinned. "You've got an easy name, buddy. Nice to the throat."  
  
Was that a compliment? I wasn't sure, so I searched Duo's face for hints.  
  
It was visible in his eyes right then, how he remembered how I had told him my real name and how his lips twitched as if he was going to try that out too....  
  
I sent him a glare, and let my eyes slip over where Wufei was sitting on his bed, eyes on the computer screen.  
  
He didn't snap his mouth shut because it already was. Still, it *looked* like he did, that immediate was his reaction and understanding in his eyes. Somehow, he seemed to understand I didn't want anyone else to know of my real name. Didn't want Wufei to hear it.  
  
Why him? His gaze seemed to ask and I sent the question back unanswered, with a blank glance, because I didn't know.  
  
A slight cough from behind the cough made me almost jump and even though I didn't, I lost eye-contact with Duo and was left feeling slightly...confused.  
  
"What?" I asked Wufei.  
  
He sat on his bed, but the laptop was closed and he had turned towards the TV. Nodding to the remote control in my hand, he said, "Yuy, turn up the volume."  
  
"Yes," I agreed and did so, a strangely flustered edge creeping into my voice.  
  
We watched the news together in silence. Then we proceeded to spend the next week together in a small motel room without anything to do, on the verge of going crazy because of boredom.  
  
But somehow, it felt just a little more okay now.  
  
***  
  
The End of Rituals  
  
***  
  
Yes, I am ashamed it took me this long to write the epilogue. I guess I was looking for the right mood but never really found it and put it off. Umm, there's going to be a sequel someday so check in sometime to see if I've posted it. It won't be too soon though.  
  
If the epilogue was corny, then it was my fault, because I liked it.  
  
Thank you, hugs, and kisses and cake to all of you who has read, reviewed and otherwise commented. You kept this story alive, you know! 


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